V'  !l 
?  ft 


j^^BUw 

9B 


ypvx  X     n      x 

O|C    Mi,/  ;  C  M 
tli<  V;  ^  \  H  \  J 

\          /'^N  .  :X 


n  H,A  vs^t  >v 


The  Property 


of 


FRIEXD  :  This  book  I  gladly  lend  to  thee 

To  read,  to  study — not  to  lend  ! 

But  to  return  again  to  me. 

Read  slowly,  pause  frequently. 

And  return  duly, 

With  the  corners  of  the  leaves  not  turned  down 


iJhttj-  ><r? 


COM  CUT  CORNERS: 


EXPERIENCES   OF   A   CONSERVATIVE    FAMILY 


IN    FANATICAL    TIMES; 


SOME  ACCOTTNT  OF 


A   CONISTECTICUT  VILLAGE,  THE   PEOPLE  WHO  LIVED   IN  IT, 
AND  THOSE  WHO  CAME  THERE  FKOM  THE  CITY. 


BY    BENATJLY.  . 


NEW    YOEK: 
MASON     BROTHERS, 


PARK    ROW. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855,  by 

MASON    BROTHERS, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


ELECTROTTED    BY  PRINTED  BY 

THOMAS   B.  SMITH,  JOHN   A.   GRAY, 

82  &  84  Beekman  St.  97  Cliff  St. 


PREFACE. 

HEADER,  will  you  take  a  glass  of  bitters  before 
dinner  ? 

In  other  words,  will  you  listen  to  a  few  words 
of  serious  conversation  before  a  novel  ? 

If  you  will,  we  shall  be  glad  of  the  opportunity 
to  say  somewhat  of  the  character  and  purpose  of 
this  work. 

Cone  Cut  Corners  is  a  story  of  American  life. 
Its  scenes  lie  in  American  cities  and  villages,  and  its 
moral  is  an  American  moral.  It  is  hoped  that  the 
reader  may  find  in  it  an  introduction  to  many  pleas- 
ant friends,  and  perhaps,  become  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted to  recognize  them,  if  he  should  ever  meet 
them  hereafter  in  real  life  ;  and  that  he  may  from 
it  derive  some  amusement,  some  instructive  sug- 
gestion, some  sympathy  for  those  who  are  burdened 

2063456 


IV  PREFACE. 

* 

•\vitli  tlieir  constitutional  liberties,  and  some  sources 
of  confidence  and  hope  in  respect  to  the  future  of 
such. 

But  a  story  of  American  life  can  not  safely 
ignore  the  faults  and  follies  of  American  life  ;  if 
it  were  to  do  so,  its  power  to  sanction  the  virtues, 
and  the  freshness  and  strength  of  that  life,  would 
fall  to  the  ground. 

And  a  story  which  has  the  teaching  of  truth  for 
its  object,  can  not  safely  forget  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  error. 

It  is  said  that  History  is  Philosophy  teaching  by 
example.  In  Fiction,  it  is  sometimes  necessary  that 
Philosophy  should  teach  by  bad  examples.  There 
are,  therefore,  some  bad  examples  exhibited  in  Cone 
Cut  Corners  ;  but  the  careful  reader  will  find  that 
Philosophy  has  always  a  purpose  in  their  exhibition. 

Let  us  also  disavow  any  unkindly  feeling  in 
these  memoirs.  If  any  where  the  current  of  the 
narrative  trenches  upon  delicate  ground,  if  we  have 
in  any  case  too  liberally  employed  actual  and  not 
yet  forgotten  incidents,  or  have  too  freely  painted 
from  living  models,  we  trust  that  those  who  are 
sensitive  to  these  features  of  the  work,  will  not  en- 
tirely condemn  it  on  this  account ;  since,  after  all, 


PREFACE.  V 

without  these,  the  full  lesson  of  the  history  could 
not  have  been  evolved. 

By  way  of  more  detailed  explanation,  it  may  be 
confessed  that  we  anticipate  some  criticism  from 
several  of  our  friends  and  acquaintance. 

Mrs.  Stuccuppe  will  notice  her  name  in  these 
pages,  as  she  turns  over  the  new  books  in  the  course 
of  some  morning's  shopping,  a  few  weeks  hence,  and 
on  that  account  will  take  the  work  home  with  her, 
and  in  the  Stuccuppe  family  carriage  ; — oh  !  what 
an  honor.  But  she  will  regard  it  as  a  low  and  even 
vulgar  book ;  not,  indeed,  in  a  moral  sense,  but  so- 
cially speaking,  since  it  introduces  her  unawares  to 
many  rough  country  people,  to  tradesfolk,  and  to 
many  of  those  lower  orders  who  do  labor  for  their 
living.  Nor  will  any  redeeming  feature  of  the  book 
be  recognized  in  the  Stuccuppe  mansion,  except 
that  Mr.  S.  may  commend  the  expose  here  made  of 
the  hollowness  of  the  Chesslebury  estates,  and  of 
the  manner  in  which  that  family  maintained  their 
pretensions  to  rank  in  the  upper  circles  of  society. 

The  ex-deacon,  Mr.  Ficksom,  would  probably 
never  see  the  book,  except  that  we  shall  send  him  a 
presentation  copy.  He  will  read  it  through,  chiefly 
on  Sunday  afternoons,  and  pronounce  it  irreverent. 


VI  PKEFACE. 

We  know  lie  will  say  this,  for  we  have  noticed  that 
the  man  who  eats  least  of  the  kernel  of  the  nut, 
always  has  most  leisure  to  grit  his  teeth  against  the 
shell. 

Miss  Provy  Pease  will  adjudge  the  whole  a  gos- 
siping mass  of  rubbish  ; — and  will  take  the  greater 
interest  in  it  on  that  very  account. 

Messrs.  Bagglehall  &  Co.  will  denounce  the  book 
as  personal  and  libelous  ;  in  which  sentiment  the 
late  lamented  Mr.  Floric  would  undoubtedly  join, 
had  he  been  longer  spared. 

But  Mr.  Mayferrie — what  will  he  say  ?  He  will 
read  the  volume  with  attention  ;  it  may  bring  a  tear 
to  his  eye,  but  never  a  flush  to  his  heart.  For  we 
know  the  nobility  of  his  nature  so  well,  that  we 
already  hear  him  saying,  as  he  lays  it  down,  borrow- 
ing the  language  of  Mr.  Eundle  : — 

"  Do  not  spare  my  example,  if  it  can  do  them 
good." 


CONE  CUT  CORNERS,  CONN., 
1st  June,  1855. 


DIRECTORY 


CONE       CUT      CORNERS 


CHAPTER  I. 

December,  1836.                                             PAGE 
CONE  CUT  COENEE9 13 

•'f-. 

CHAPTER  II. 

December,  1835. 

HON.  LAFAYETTE  CHESSLEBURY,  3T  WASHINGTON  SQUARE,  NEW 
YORK 23 

*  *  * 

CHAPTER  III. 

June,  1835. 


JOHN  MAYFERRIE. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

December,  1835. 
GREGORY  DONOE;    ENTERTAINMENT  FOR  MAN  AND  BEAST....  45 

CHAPTER  V. 

December,  1835. 
SALANDA....  59 


Viii  DIRECTORY. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

January  and  June,  1S86. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

March,  1843. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  CET. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

From  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  downward. 
BY  THE  NAME  OF_CHESSLEBUBY 95 

CHAPTER    IX. 

August,  1847. 

OF    HAGGLE    AND    CHANGE;    DEY-GOODS    ESTABLISHMENT, 
319  BROADWAY ...  101 


CHAPTER    X. 

September,  1S47. 
CONE  CUT  ACADEMY....  ...  118 


CHAPTER    XI. 

September,  184T. 
INTRODUCING  ME.  JASON  L.   CHESSLEBUEY....  ...  123 


CHAPTER    XII. 

January,  1843. 
A  TEMPEEANCE  MEETING  IN  THE  BUNGANOCK  DISTRICT 181 


DIRECTORY.  IX 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

September,  1861.  PAGE 

LAFAYETTE    CHESSLEBURY;    COUNSELOR,    &c.t   BACK    OFFICE, 
UP  STAIES , 148 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

"              October,  1851. 
"WANTED,  A  SITUATION 151 

CHAPTER    XV. 

October,  1851. 
MRS.  BUNDLE;  GLOVES  AND  HOSIERY 159 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

October,  1851. 

SOUTH    SIDE    MADEIRA;    1S20.      IMPORTED   BY   BAGGLEHALL, 
FLORIC  &  CO. in 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

October,  1851. 

MRS.  LAFAYETTE  CHESSLEBURY  AT  HOME  WEDNESDAY  EVEN- 
ING.   ...  185 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

October,  1851. 
NIGHT  THOUGHTS 199 

CHAPTER   XIX.       , 

October,  1851. 
DEAD  PAPERS....  ...  209 


X  DIRECTORY. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

November,  1S5L  PAGE 

STATE    OF  MAINE....  ...  221 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

January,  1862. 
TO  THE  EEV.  E.  L.  GRAYNES.... 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

July,  1852. 
INDEPENDENCE  . . .  ...  265 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

July,  1S52. 
COLD  WATER....  ...  2S3 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

August,  1852. 
PRIVATE:  TO  BE  BURNED  UNOPENED 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

August,  1852. 
THE  WAGES  OF  SIN  IS  DEATH. ...  815 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

October,  1852. 
PAUL  BUNDLE,  M.D.JSF. 


DIRECTORY. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

December  81,  1852 
January  1,  1853. 


BEOADWAY  AND  FIFTH  AVENUE 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

May,  1854. 
CITIZENS,  TO  THE  EESCUE 861 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

September,  1854. 


CONFIDENTIAL. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

November,  1854. 
FEOM  THE  MEDICAL  COLLEGE.... 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

To  June  1, 1855. 
TO  CLOSE  THE  CONCEBN ....  . . .  42T 


CONE    CUT   CORNERS, 


i. 


DECEMBER,   1885. 


IT  was  bitter  cold, 
go  cold, — that  in 
the  sky  the  sentry 
stars  stood  hesitat- 
ing, shivering  at 
their  posts,  afraid  to 

leave  before  the  coming  of  the  sun,  yet  evincing  by  their 
chilly  twinkle  how  readily  they  might  desert;  and  turning, 
now  and  then,  a  wistful  glance  toward  their  more  Eastern 
brethren~who  had  made  a  sally  out  upon  a  passing  cloud, 
caught  it,  and  made  a  blanket  of  it  on  the  spot. 


14  CONECUTCOHXERS. 

Sp  cold, — that  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  below,  ther  shiver- 
ing snow-flakes  hurried  home.  Some  buried  themselves  in 
beds  a  hundred  thousand  deep,  to  keep  each  other  warm. 
Some  hid  away  in  sheltered  nooks  and  corners,  seeking  a 
refuge  from  the  freezing  blast.  The  few,  who  at  that  late  hour 
were  still  without  a  resting-place,  hurried  along  before  the 
breeze,  each  striving  with  frantic  zeal  to  forestall  his  brother 
in  the  warmest  place.  Poor  fools  !  They  knew  not  that  they 
competed  for  destruction  ; — that  the  first  pastime  ^of  the 
warmth  they  sought  would  be  the  dissolution  of  themselves. 

So  cold, — that  the  infant  waterfall,  in  the  petty  brook  that 
ran  across  the  road,  had  pulled  its  icy  coverlid  fairly  up  over 
its  babbling  mouth,  and  thus  snugged  away  in  its  bed,  was 
singing  itself  with  stifled  lullaby  to  sleep. 

So  cold, — that  the  winter  wind,  although  well  used  to  run  of 
errands  most  on  shivery  nights,  could  bear  the  tingling  chill 
without  no  longer,  but  came  sighing,  moaning  round  the 
house,  seeking  at  every  crack  and  crevice  an  entrance,  hoping 
to  warm  itself  at  the  fire  within. 

So  very  cold, — that  where  upon  the  window-pane  within  the 
house,  a  valiant  horde  of  well-armed  dwarfs  and  fairies  had 
marched  forth  with  bold  hearts,  stout  arms,  and  every  style 
of  magic  shield  and  weapon  to  do  fierce  battle  with  some 
foreign  foe,  they  had  been  stricken  dead  upon  the  glass,  and 
stood  there  making  idle  mockery  of  war. 

The  house  itself,  ensconced  beneath  a  hill,  and  half  wrapped 
up  at  all  exposed  points  in  drifted  snow,  looked  sheltered. 
The  cold  wind  sighed  around  it  unheeded.  The  moon,  sim- 
ple-hearted creature,  threw  her  rays  upon  it,  striving  in  vain 
to  warm  the  atmosphere  which  the  sun  at  noon  could  scarcely 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  15 

raise  up  to  the  freezing  point.  From  one  chimney  a  light 
cloud  of  smoke  rose  up.  It  seemed  a  gentle  breath  ;  and  was 
almost  the  only  sign  which  showed  the  dwelling  was  reposing 
in  a  quiet  sleep — not  dead. 

Not  far  beyond,  stood  another  house  no  less  quiet  than  the 
first.  And  following  on,  around  a  curve  in  the  road,  one 
came  quite  suddenly  upon  a  cluster  of  dwellings  forming  quite 
a  country  village.  Had  they  been  a  flock  of  sheep  lain  down 
to  rest,  they  could  not  have  huddled  themselves  together  more 
irregularly  and  yet  sociably.  The  village  church,  the  patri- 
arch of  the  flock,  wearing  the  ancient  token  of  leadership 
common  among  sheep,  a  bell,  rested  among  his  comrades. 
They  thronged  about  him  closely.  In  quiet  confidence,  in 
peace,  in  atmospheric  coldness,  but  in  social  and  moral 
warmth,  the  village  slept. 

The  house  beneath  the  hill,  alone  showed  signs  of  activity 
and  life.  The  little  gate,  as  if  conscious  that  the  labor  of  the 
day  was  not  quite  performed,  stood  open  still.  From  a  win- 
dow here  and  there,  as  from  a  bright  and  wakeful  eye, 
streamed  rays  of  a  warm  light.  Tied  to  a  post  before  the 
door  stood  a  shabby  gray  horse — a  doctor's  horse — and  at 
the  door  stood  the  doctor  himself.  Wrapped  up 'in  his  great 
buffalo  coat,  he  looked  like  a  huge  cigar — not  quite  put  out 
either,  if  one  could  trust  the  cloud  of  what  looked  like  smoke, 
which  issued  from  his  mouth,  or  allowed  himself  to  be  de- 
ceived by  the  semblance  of  ashes  put  on  by  the  snow  en- 
crusted upon  his  cap. 

The  doctor  opened  the  door,  causing  an  agonized  shriek  of 
certain  snow-flakes  which  had  ensconced  themselves  about 
its  hinges,  and  went  in. 


16  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

Into  an  entry, — a  little  entiy — one  third  table,  one  third 
door-mat,  one  third  front  stairs. 

Through  another  door,  and  into  another  room.  A  low 
studded  room,  with  a  brown  ceiling  and  a  yellow  painted 
floor  ;  with  a  bright  wood-fire  blazing  in  the  huge  stone  fire- 
place, and  a  colony  of  cane-bottomed  chairs  about  it ;  with 
an  astronomical  chart  hanging  up  on  one  side,  with  gods  and 
goddesses,  lions,  bears,  serpents,  scorpions,  in  general  melee, 
and  a  perpetual  almanac  calculated  for  centuries,  on  the 
other,  which  no  one  knew  how  to  use,  and  which  conse- 
quently never  indicated  any  thing  to  any  body.  A  vase  of 
crystalized  grasses — a  cold  and  cheerless  ornament — stood  on 
one  end  of  the  mantle-piece,  and  a  pitcher  and  tea-cup  on 
the  other.  The  only  person  in  the  room  was  a  woman,  who 
was  stooping  over  the  fire,  shading  her  face  with  one  hand, 
while  she  stirred  some  mixture  which  she  was  preparing,  with 
the  other.  As  the  doctor  entered  the  room,  she  raised  her 
head  and  showed  a  face  very  large,  very  round,  and  very  red  ; 
this  latter  might  have  been  the  effect  of  stooping  over  tin.- 
fire,  not  her  natural  complexion.  She  also  exhibited  an  in- 
cipient whisker  and  symptoms  of  a  mustache. 

"  Good  evening,  doctor,"  said  she,  "  I  'm  glad  you  Ve  come. 
You  're  needed." 

Her  voice  would  have  frightened  a  less  courageous  man 
than  the  doctor.  It  sounded  so  little  like  a  lady,  and  so 
much  like  a  bassoon. 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Boggs,"  said  the  doctor. 

As  he  said  this  he  walked  up  to  the  fire,  drew  UD  an  old 
arm-chair,  and  put  his  snowy  feet  upon  the  andirons.  He  sat 
there  watching  the  fire  with  a  thoughtful  eye  until  the  snow 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


was  melted  off,  and  its  vain  hissing  and  spluttering  had  ceased. 
He  then  got  up,  pulled  his  pantaloons  out  of  his  boots,  and 
smoothed  them  down  outside,  unbuttoned  his  overcoat,  took 
it  off,  laid  it  carefully  over  the  back  of  the  chair,  unfastened 
his  fur  cap  and  put  it  on  the  mantle-piece,  ran  his  fingers 
once  or  twice  through  his  hair,  and  brushed  the  snow  from 
his  bushy  whiskers.  All  this  with  great  deliberation.  He 
then  took  a  coat-tail  in  each  hand  affectionately,  and  bringing 
the  ends  before  him  pointing  at  the  window,  with  his  back 
toward  the  fire,  he  addressed  himself  to  conversation. 

"  And  how  do  you  do,  Mother  Nancy  ?"  said  he. 

"  Healthy,"  said  she  ;  "  healthy.     Allers  healthy." 

It  was  a  most  astonishing  voice  she  had.  It  seemed  to 
pervade  the  whole  room,  and  its  resonance  floated  in  the  air 
after  she  had  spoken,  as  do  the  echoes  of  the  ocean  in  a  sea- 
shell. 

"And  what,"  said  the  doctor,  "is  the  matter  with  Miss 
Provy  ?" 

"  Miss  Provy  !"  repeated  Mother  Nancy.  "  Lor'  bless  you  ! 
it  is  n't  her." 

She  looked  up  as  she  said  it,  with  a  slight  smile  in  the  cor- 
ners of  her  ample  mouth,  and  a  genial  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"  Not  Miss  Provy  !"  said  the  doctor  in  surprise.  "  Surely 
it  can't  be  Calick." 

"  Well,  no  !  not  Calick,"  said  she. 

The  smile  made  further  encroachments  on  the  cheek. 

"  Who  is  it,  then  ?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  It  's  a  woman,"  said  Mother  Nancy,  "  and  a  —  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  dryly,  "  go  on." 

"  It  's  a  woman,"  continued  Mother  Nancy,  "  that  Calick 


18  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

picked  up  to-day  on  the  road.  She  asked  him  for  a  ride,  and 
of  course  he  give  her  a  ride  as  far  as  he  was  a  going,  and 
when  he  got  here,  about  supper  time,  of  course  he  brought 
her  in  and  give  her  some  supper,  and  then  she  wanted  to  stay 
here  and  sleep  ;  and  of  course  they  give  her  a  bed ;  the  best 
room  in  the  house  too,  bless  'em,  if  she  was  a  crazy  woman  ; 
and  then  they  sent  for  me  to  come  and  nuss  her,  being  both 
sick  and  crazy ;  and  when  I  come  and  told  'em  what  the 
matter  was,  which  I  saw  at  once-t,  being  some  experienced  in 
such  matters,  they  Sent  for  you,  and  so  both  you  and  I  are 
here,  and  I  guess  now  that  you  know  pretty  much  about  it, 
all  that  I  or  any  body  else  does.  There  's  Calick  now,"  con- 
tinued she,  as  she  heard  the  front  door  open  and  the  noise  of 
some  one  stamping  the  snow  off  his  boots  in  the  little  entry. 
"  I  guess  I  '11  go  and  tell  'em  the  doctor  's  come." 

So  saying,  she  took  the  mixture  which  she  had  been  stir- 
ring, off  the  fire,  opened  a  door  leading  out  on  one  side  of  the 
fire-place,  and  went  into  the  sick  room,  shutting  the  door 
after  her  very  gently. 

As  she  went  out*the  door  through  which  the  doctor  had 
entered  opened,  and  Calick  Pease  came  in,  evidently  from  the 
cold,  for  he  seemed  to  be  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  cold  air, 
and  his  hand  felt  like  an  icicle  when  he  shook  hands  with  the 
doctor. 

He  was  tall  and  robust ;  but  with  a  growing  stoop  in  his 
form,  which  indicated  hard  work  and  some  care.  A  thick 
fur  cap,  not  taken  off,  but  pushed  back  on  his  head  as  he  en- 
tered the  room,  framed  a  frank  and  prepossessing  countenance, 
browned  with  sun  and  wind,  and  now  somewhat  ruddy  with 
the  glow  of  brisk  walking.  It  was  one  of  those  far<^  i-  i<Cn 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  19 

peculiar  pleasure  to  look  upon,  partly  because  its  expression 
was  genial,  attractive  and  good,  and  partly  because  it  be- 
tokened that  simplicity  and  naturalness  of  disposition  which 
is  unconscious  of  observation,  and  makes  no  objection  to  being 
enjoyed. 

"  I  Ve  been  a  puttin'  of  your  horse  in  the  barn,"  said  he  to 
the  doctor,  "  just  for  a  shelter.  It 's  too  cold  for  any  creatur' 
to  be  out  to-night." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  doctor,  "thank  you.  It  will  be 
safer,  I  suppose." 

"  Poor  thing,"  said  Calicb,  nodding  toward  the  door  of  the 
sick  room,  and  at  the  same  time  drawing  the  chair  which 
Miss  Boggs  had  just  left,  closer  to  the  fire,  and  sitting  down  in 
it,  "  Poor  thing !  Think  of  her  havin'  been  out  to-night  in 
it.  She  'd  have  been  an  icicle  before  mornin'." 

"  It  is  a  snapping  cold  night,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Awful,"  said  Calick. 

There  was  a  pause.  Calick  occupied  it  in  picking -.up  the 
falling  brands,  and  throwing  them  over  the  huge  back  log. 

"  What  is  it  about  this  woman,  any  way  V  said  the  doctor 
at  length.  "  Who  is  she  ?  What  is  she  ?  Where  did  she 
come  from  ?  Where  is  she  going  to  ?  I  don't  understand  it." 

Calick  shook  his  head. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  he ;  "  she 's  crazy.  Crazy  as  a  loon.  Poor 
thing !" 

"  How  did  she  come  here  ?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Well,"  said  Calick,  "  I  was  a  comin'  up  the  road  with  a 
load  of  wood.  When  I  was  comin'  over  Cartrock's  Hill,  I  saw 
this  woman  a  walkin'  up,  and  a  stoppin'  every  now  and  then 
to  sit  down  and  rest  a  spell.  She  looked  dreadful  tired,  I  tell 


20  CONE     CUT    CORSTEKS. 

you.  Well,  she  walked  so  slow  that  I  caught  up  with  her 
near  by  the  guide-post  up  there,  though  my  oxen  ain't  very 
fast  walkers  neither.  When  I  came  up  opposite  to  her,  she 
was  a  sittin'  down  again  in  the  snow  to  rest.  She  'd  a  pretty 
face,  and  her  dress  was  all  snow,  where  she'd  been  a  sittiii' 
down.  I  never  see  such  a  distressed  face.  '  Come,  come,' 
says  I,  '  this  won't  never  do,  to  leave  the  poor  creatur'  to  die 
in  the  snow.'  So  I  offered  her  a  ride,  which  she  took  glad 
enough.  So  I  fixed  up  a  little  place  in  front  of  the  sled,  and 
we  went  along.  '  Are  you  a  goin'  far  ?'  says  I.  '  Goin'  ?' 
says  she.  '  Goin' !  goin' !  gone  !  for  a  fortun'  to  John,  my 
John.  You  don't  happen  to  be  acquainted  with  my  John,  do 
you  ?'  says  she  to  me.  Well,  I  was  kind  of  flustered  by  that ; 
but  I  answered  that  I  did  n't  recollect  him ;  and  then  she 
begun  a  talkin'  to  herself.  At  first  I  thought  she  was  drunk, 
but  she  acted  steady  enough,  and  did  n't  look  to  be  drunk 
either.  Pretty  soon  she  broke  out  again  all  of  a  sudden. 
'  Did  you  know,'  says  she,  turnin'  to  me,  *  that  I  Ve  got  a 
fortun'  ?'  '  No  !'  says  I, '  have  you  ?'  '  Yes,'  says  she, '  I  Ve 
got  a  fortun'.  He 's  got  it  now,  but  I  'm  goin'  after  it.  A 
fortun'.  A  treasure.  Where  your  treasure  is,  there  shall  your 
heart  be  also.  He  's  got  my  treasure  and  my  heart  also.  Ho 
may  have  the  treasure,  but  he  shan't  have  the  heart.  He 
shan't  have  the  heart.  I  'in  goin'  after  it  now.  I  shall  get  it 
again.  -You  ain't  seen  my  heart  round  any  where,  have  you  ?' 
'  No,'  says  I.  *  Nor  my  treasure  ?'  '  No,'  says  I.  4  Very  good,' 
says  she,  '  then  he  's  got  'em.  It 's  all  right — he 's  got  'em — 
all  right — right!'  Well,  she  talked  in  that  way  all  the 
while. 

"  Finally,  when  I  got  home,  I  told  her  I  was  a  goin'  to  turn 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  21 

in  here,  and  she  'd  better  not  go  any  further  to-night.  Well, 
she  said  she  guessed  she  'd  turn  in,  too.  Perhaps  she  'd  find 
her  treasure  in  here.  So  I  brought  her  in.  Aunt  Provy 
managed  to  dry  her  clothes,  and  \ve  give  her  some  supper. 
m  She  kept  a  talkin'  all  the  time  in  the  same  way,  about  her 
treasure  and  her  John,  and  has  been  ever  since.  She  took  to 
faintin'  just  after  supper,  so  we  sent  over  to  Mother  Nancy  to 
come  over  and  nuss  her,  and  she  said  what  was  the  matter 
with  her ;  and  then  we  sent  for  you.  If  you  can  find  out 
who  she  is  or  where  she  come  from,  do." 

The  doctor  made  no  reply,  but  leaning  back  in  his  chair, 
his  feet  on  the  andirons,  sat  gazing  intently  at  the  blazing  fire 
and  playing  with  his  bushy  whiskers. 

"  H'm  !     Bad !"  said  he,  shaking  his  head  dubiously. 

He  arose  and  paced  to  and  fro*  across  the  room.  He  went 
to  the  windows,  and  rattled  his  fingers  against  the  glass — 
came  back  again  to  the  fire — took  up  his  saddle-bags  which 
he  had  deposited  upon  the  hearth  when  he  first  came  in — 
fumbled  in  them  nervously,  bringing  out  sundry  ominous  little 
vials — looked  up  at  the  little  clock  upon  the  mantle-piece,  and 
compared  his  watch  with  it,  calculating  the  difference  to  a 
second. 

What  a  desperate  hurry  the  little  helter-skelter  clock  upon 
the  mantle-piece  was  in  that  night.  It  was  a  thorough-going 
Yankee  clock.  Yankee  all  over.  Brim  full  of  Yankee  life — 
Yankee  motion.  There  was  no  discontented  pendulum  there ; 
you  might  depend  upon  that.  It  was  no  old  fogy  of  a  clock 
that  leisurely  ticked  in  slow  and  measured  tones,  sailing 
through  an  ocean  of  silence  to  touch  on  the  shore  of  a  second. 
The  little  pendulum  jerked  itself  back  and  forth  in  most  des- 


22  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

perate  huny.  Each  second  trod  quick  on  the  heels  of  its  pre- 
decessor. They  came  running  out  of  the  future  and  into  the 
past  in  quick  succession.  With  its  hurried  "  tick,  tick,  tick, 
tick,"  it  said  as  plain  as  clock  could  say,  "  Come — come — 
move  on.  Quick !  Quick !  Quick !  Quick !" 

Well  might  your  active  spring  exhibit  some  impatience  to 
the  reflecting  doctor ;  for  on  his  hand  and  skill  to-night  de- 
pend the  beating  of  a  feeble  heart  not  yet  wound  and  set  to 
run  like  yours. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Mother  Nancy,  in  a  hurricane  of  a  whisper, 
opening  the  door  just  wide  enough  to  let  the  volume  of  sound 
through,  "  doctor,  we  're  ready  for  you." 


II. 


DECEMBER,    1835. 


IT  so  happened  that  the  same  evening  which  thus  left  Ca- 
lick  musing  alone  over  the  bright  fire  of  Aunt  Pease's  kitchen, 
brought  also  perplexity  to  the  Honorable  Lafayette  Chessle- 
bury  in  the  bosom  of  his  family. 

The  winter  night,  whose  murmuring  and  snappish  dispo- 
sition contrived  to  make  its  presence  felt  to  Calick,  stealing 
into  the  room  and  hiding  from  the  fire  behind  him,  and  freez- 
ing his  back,  found  no  entrance  to  the  city  domicile  of  Mr. 
Chesslebury.  Nor  was  it,  perhaps,  even  aware  of  his  existence. 
He  certainly  was  quite  unconscious  that  it  was  abroad.  For 
shielded  and  screened  by  double  windows,  blinds  without,  and 
shutters  within,  and  heavy  folds  of  curtain  concealing  both, 
warm-colored  and  soft  carpets  beneath  him,  a  bright  coal  fire 
in  the  grate  before  him,  the  hot  breeze  of  the  furnace-register 


24  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

behind  him,  and  the  warm  breath  of  a  many  flamed  gas- 
chandelier  above  him,  Mr.  Chesslebury  was  unapproachable 
by  the  world  at  large,  and  could  even  ignore  the  very  atmos- 
phere, which  common  people  must  contend  with. 

Mr.  Chesslebury  was  ensconced  in  his  easy  chair.  It  was  an 
easy  chair  indeed.  His  original  position  therein  was  probably  a 
sitting  posture,  but  he  had  gradually  slipped  down  from  high 
manners  into  careless  comfort,  and  now,  his  feet  reaching  the 
fender,  and  his  head  just  appearing  above  the  cushioned  arm 
of  his  chair,  he  was  in  that  position  which  made  it  hard  to 
trace  his  form,  and  say  where  his  body  ended  and  his  legs 
began.  He  looked  as  if  he  were  all  legs  and  no  body.  From 
this  position  of  luxurious  awkwardness  he  raised  himself, 
slightly,  from  time  to  time,  but  only  just  enough  to  sip  from 
a  little  green  glass,  which  was  placed  conveniently  to  his 
hand,  upon  a  slight  table  set  by  his  chair  for  the  purpose. 
The  little  green  glass  was  replenished,  upon  occasion,  out  of 
an  elaborate  little  pitcher,  whose  silver  lid,  when  lifted,  sent 
up  a  steam  of  a  peculiar  and  apparently  a  grateful  savor. 

Ha  !  Winter  Night ;  you  must  whistle  louder  in  the  chim- 
ney than  that,  if  you  would  suggest  your  presence  here. 

The  head  which  occasionally  raised  itself  to  drink,  pre- 
sented a  handsome  visage,  whose  incipient  lines  indicated  the 
age  of  thirty-five.  A  pair  of  gold  spectacles  glistened  in  the 
fire-light,  and  their  bright  glasses  gave  an  extremely  res- 
pectable gloss  to  a  pair  of  somewhat  foxy  eyes. 

Thus  protected  without,  and  comforted  within,  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury was  enjoying,  in  silence,  the  company  and  conversation 
of  his  wife.  For  the  other  end  of  the  rug  was  adorned  by  the 
flowing  robes  and  slippered  toes  of  the  Honorable  Mrs.  Vir- 


C  O  N  E     C  UT     C  O  U  X  E  U  S .  25 

ginia  Chesslebury.  This  lady,  reclining  upon  the  sofa,  ap- 
peared in  a  position  of  ease  and  negligence,  but  in  a  dress  of 
great  stringency  and  elaborateness  ;  for  Mrs.  Chesslebury  was 
a  rising  star  in  the  firmament  of  fashion,  and  always— even 
in  private — kept  her  lamp  trimmed  and  burning.  Upon  the 
rug,  between  father  and  mother,  sat  a  little  boy.  His  was  a 
pleasant  face,  rosy  just  now,  in  the  heat  of  the  fire  before 
him,  and  intent  with  an  expression  of  quiet  delight  on  mak- 
ing Noah's  cow  ride  on  the  back  of  Noah's  elephant,  up  the 
landing  plank  into  Noah's  ark ;  the  embarkation  upon  which 
he  was  rehearsing. 

Mrs.  Chesslebury  spoke. 

"  Did  you  see  the  Stuccuppe's  carriage  to-day,  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury?" 

Mrs.  Chesslebury  was  practicing  in  private  the  art  of  con- 
versation, and  for  this  purpose  she  was  accustomed  to 
improve  their  domestic  moments  by  imagining  her  husband 
to  be  a  casual  stranger,  to  whom  she  had  been  introduced, 
and  straightway  addressing  herself  to  the  task  of  sustaining  a 
conversation  with  him  upon  the  topics  of  the  day.  This  she 
found  to  be  severe  exercise  ;  for  Mr.  Chesslebury,  set  up  thus  as 
a  target  for  her  practice,  received  her  shots,  but  returned 
none ;  and  she  very  soon  found  that  when  she  could  carry  on 
a  polite  conversation  with  him,  she  was  in  full  training  to 
cope  with  any  of  the  brilliant  minds  she  was  accustomed  to 
meet  in  elegant  society,  with  no  fear  of  awkward  pauses. 

"It  was   a  very  magnificent   carriage   indeed,"   continued 

she.     "  An   entirely   new   establishment.     Four  horses,   two 

men,  and  a  coat  of  arms.     All  new ;  especially  the  coat  of 

arms.     How  do  the  Stuccuppes  come  to  have  a  coat  of  arms  ?" 

2 


2G  CO-NECUTCOKXElls. 

A  pause  to  allow  the  supposed  stranger  to-  respond. 

"  irm  !"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury  to  himself,  sounding;  as  if  lie 
really  were  a  target  struck  by  an  arrow. 

"  I  think  it  very  pleasant,"  continued  the  lady,  "  to  possess 
these  mementos  of  antiquity.  One's  character  depends  so 
much  on  family  and  ancestors  ;  and  one's  position  is  so  much 
clearer  to  have  these  things  understood.  I  should  feel  quite 
lost  in  the  world  without  knowing  our  heraldry ;  really  it  is 
quite  an  important  point  Mr.  Chesslebury ;  do  you  not  thiuk 
so  ?  Quite  an  important  point  for  a  family  connection,  and 
gives  a  respectability  to  all  its  members — to  all  its  members." 

"  Oh — h'm  !"  responded  the  target  to  another  arrow. 

"  And  I  think,"  pursued  the  lady,  persevering  in  her  dia- 
logue, "  that  a  great  many  people  here  are  very  deficient  in 
respect  and  veneration  for  their  family  connection  and  ances- 
tors. It  seems  to  me  a  great 'defect  in  character,  and  I  think 
children  should  be  educated  to  feel  more  reverence  for  their 
ancestry ; — " 

Young  Jason  then  certainly  needed  discipline ;  for  before 
her  very  eyes,  that  juvenile  scion,  wrapped  in  the  silence  of 
his  infant  ingenuity,  was  whittling  off  the  skirts  of  his  respec- 
table ancestor  Noah,  to  make  him  fit  into  a  chimney  of  his 
own  ark,  to  represent  a  chimney  sweep. 

" — because,"  pursued  the  industrious  student  of  conversa- 
tion, finding  herself  rather  at  the  end  of  her  subject,  and  com- 
pelled to  review,  "  because,  as  I  said  before,  I  think,  Mr. 
Chesslebury,  that  heraldry,  and  coats  of  arms,  and  liveries, 
and  matters  of  that  sort,  impart  peculiar  character  to  those 
families  who  are  entitled  to  use  them,  and  lend  a  respecta- 
bility to  all  their  members." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS  27 

As  if  the  arrow  went  wide  of  its  mark,  the  target  made  no 
responsive  sound. 

The  lady  rose  from  her  seat  and  took  a  chair  by  the  side  of 
her  husband. 

"  That  smells  nice,"  said  she,  as  he  lifted  the  silver  lid,  and 
poured  a  stream  of  vapor  up  and  of  liquid  down. 

When  he  put  down  the  glass,  she  took  it  up ;  extending 
for  that  purpose  a  fair  and  slender  hand,  richly  jeweled. 

"  Come,  come,  Lafayette  !  Why  don't  you  talk  ?  I  wish 
you  would  say  something." 

"  Pooh,"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury,  vouchsafing  an  uncommon 
compliance  with  a  not  uncommon  request.  " '  Lends  a  re- 
spectability to  all  its  members.'  But  suppose  they  don't  want 
to  borrow  T' 

"  Why  they  do  want  to,"  returned  his  wife  gently.  "  They 
can  not  help  it,  my  dear." 

"  Can't  they  ?     Your  cousin  Charlotte  does  for  one." 

"  My  cousin  Charlotte  !  Come  now,  Lafayette,  I  did  not 
marry  all  the  Chessleburys." 

Mr.  Chesslebury  made  no  reply. 

"  Do  you  not  think  that  whisky  has  a  smoky  taste  ?"  she 
asked,  raising  the  glass  again  and  sipping  delicately,  and 
tasting  the  punch  upon  her  rosy  lips. 

"Don't,  Virginia.  I  wouldn't  taste  that,"  said  her  hus- 
band, putting  out  his  hand  to  stop  the  glass  in  its  passage. 

"  Well,"  resumed  he,  reverting  to  the  topic  of  discussion, 
"  I  don't  see  that  our  pedigree  lends  her  much  respectability. 
I  can  see  how  a  fishwoman,  or  a  seamstress,  or  any  thing  of 
that  kind  should  take  to  drinking,"  added  he,  putting  down 
empty  the  little  green  glass  which  he  had  taken  from  his  wife, 


28  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  but  for  a  lady  in  Charlotte's  position,  I  do  not  understand 
it." 

"Yes,  indeed!"  assented  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  "with  a  good 
establishment,  a  splendid  house,  and  such  beautiful  horses, 
and  a  good-natured  husband — " 

"H'm!"  interrupted  Mr.  Chesslebury,  "and  not  content 
•with  not  being  respectable  at  home,  she  can't  even  keep 
up  a  respectable  character  as  a  crazy  woman  at  the  Asy- 
lum, but  must  go  and  run  away  in  a  snow  storm,  in  her  con- 
dition." 

"  Why,  Lafayette  !"  exclaimed  the  lady,  with  more  excite- 
ment than  could  have  been  expected  of  her.  "  Why !  No  !" 

"  Yes ;  she  has  gone.  She  disappeared  Sunday  night. 
Here  is  the  letter." 

So  speaking,  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  slippery  pack  of 
papers,  and  began  to  shuffle  and  deal  them  in  search  of  the 
letter. 

It  read  as  follows: — 

"  LOCKUP  ASYLUM,  Coxx. 
Monday  night 

"  Mr  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  have  to  communicate  to  you  the  sad  fact,  that  your 
unfortunate  relative,  Mrs.  Charlotte  Chesslebury,  left  us  clan- 
destinely last  evening,  and  the  most  diligent  search  fails  to 
disclose  any  trace  or  clew  to  her  course. 

"  Her  door  was  found  open  and  her  room  empty,  when  the 
attendant  went  to  allot  the  evening  meal.  As  our  vigilance 
has  been  unceasing,  we  are  entirely  surprised :  and  the  more 
pained  because  this  is  the  first  loss  we  have  ever  met  with. 
You  may  be  assured  that  it  is  through  no  negligence  of  ours. 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  29 

We  conjecture  that  she  picked  the  lock  of  her  apartment  with 
a  hair  pin.  Every  other  instrument  of  destruction  had  been 
taken  from  her,  and  we  had  not  thought  it  possible  that  she 
could  do  herself  any  harm  with  those.  We  do  not  under- 
stand how  she  could  have  accomplished  it,  because  our  locks 
are  excellent,  as  we  shall  be  happy  to  have  you  test  them  at 
any  time. 

"Mrs.  Charlotte  Chesslebury  has  been  not  much  better 
than  when  last  we  wrote  you.  After  being  placed  here,  her 
case  abated  much,  partly  owing  to  loss  of  strength  from  the 
confinement,  and  partly  to  gradual  diminution  of  violence, 
from  being  beyond  the  reach  of  her  usual  stimulants.  Of 
late  she  has  been  however,  if  any  thing,  more  variable  in  her 
feelings  and  demonstrations.  She  has  gro-vwn  more  and  more 
feeble,  as  was  to  be  expected ;  but  has  had  times  of  unusual 
clearness  of  mind,  and  has  made  more  than  one  ingenious 
attempt  to  contrive  an  escape. 

"  She  was,  however,  although  bodily  weaker,  yet  mentally 
so  much  better,  we  were  in  great  confidence  that  if  she  could 
be  kept  quiet  and  beyond  the  reach  of  her  most  unfortunate 
gratification  until  her  approaching  crisis  were  past,  she  would 
from  that  time  convalesce,  and  we  might  in  the  course  of  time, 
have  the  great  satisfaction  of  restoring  her  to  the  high  social 
position  which  she  occupied,  and  which  she  is,  by  nature  and 
education,  so  eminently  qualified  to  fill.  Once  recovered,  and 
her  unhappy  habits  broken  up,  we  hoped  she  might  enjoy,  in 
some  measure,  a  restoration  of  health. 

"We  are  continuing  to  prosecute  in  every  direction  our 
search,  and  do  not  yet  despair  of  recovering  her. 

"  As  the  quarter  has  just  expired,  we  inclose  our  usual  bill. 


30  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

which  Mr.  John  Chesslebury  directed  to  be  sent  to  you,  as  he 
did  not  know  what  might  be  his  future  address. 
"  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

"  yours,  most  obediently, 

"  PHILANDER  B.  STRATECOTE,  M.  D. 

"  To  HON.  LAFAYETTE  CHESSLEBURY,  New  York." 

"  P.  S.  We  are  informed  by  the  attendant,  that  a  number 
of  little  portable  articles  are  found  to  be  missing.  We  have 
inserted  in  the  bill  an  estimate  of  the  amount,  together  with 
the  injury  to  -the  locks,  which  is  considerable,  for  we  shall  be 
obliged,  of  course,  to  have  all  the  locks  in  the  establishment 
replaced.  Mr.  John  Chesslebury  said  we  should  draw  on 
you  for  his  wife's  bills,  and  you  would  charge  them  to  him. 
«  Yours,  truly, 

"P.  B.  S.,M.D." 

"  Why  the  crazy  girl !"  cried  Mrs.  Virginia  Chesslebury, 
throwing  down  the  letter  with  supreme  indifference  to  the 
suggestions  of  the  postcript.  "  Well !  a  woman  who  drinks 
as  she  will,  can't  be  expected  to  do  better." 

And  Mrs.  Chesslebury  essayed  to  replenish  the  little  green 
glass  for  her  own  use. 

"  Lafayette,"  said  she,  "  your  pitcher  is  empty." 

"  Jason,"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury,  at  the  same  time  stretch- 
ing up  a  foot  in  search  of  a  resting  place  upon  the  mantel- 
piece, in  a  vain  attempt  to  aggravate  the  comeliness  and 
comfort  of  his  position.  "  Jason,  ring  the  bell." 

Little  Jason,  leaving  his  diluvian  recreations,  got  up  from 
the  carpet  and  toddled  to  the  bell  cord.  He  now  appeared  to 
be  in  the  aggregate,  a  youth  of  about  eighteen  years  of  age ; 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  "31 

to  wit :  boy  four,  dress  fourteen.  Ho  pulled  the  bell,  and  nt 
almost  the  same  instant,  a  gentlemanly-dressed  servant  opened 
the  door  and  entered. 

"  Wilson,"  said  the  master,  K  you  are  prompt." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Wilson,  accepting  a  compliment. 

Wilson  had  been  sitting  outside  the  parlor  door  with  the 
keyhole  for  company.  For  Wilson  was  a  bit  of  a  gentleman 
in  his  way,  and  the  company  down  stairs  was  very  promis- 
cuous, and  not  •exactly  what  he  had  been  accustomed  to. 
And  between  the  keyhole  and  the  cook,  he  preferred  the 
keyhole, 

"  A  little  more  fire,  Wilson." 

Wilson  was  not  quite  certain  whether  Mr.  Chesslebury 
wanted  the  fire  in  the  grate,  or  in  the  little  pitcher. 

His  doubts  were  readily  -dissolved  when  he  saw  the  pitcher 
upheld  by  the  fair  hand  of  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  behind  her  hus- 
band's chair.  To  make  sure  of  pleasing  both,  he  took  the 
coal  hod  and  the  pitcher,  and  soon  returned  with  both 
replenished. 

Wilson  was  then  instructed  "  to  speak  to  Catherine ;"  and 
Catherine,  admonished  of  her  duties,  entered  by  stealth,  tread- 
ing upon  the  animal  kingdom  in  general,  and  the  diminished 
image  of  the  respectable  ancestor  in  particular,  pounced  upon 
Jason,  and  bore  him  away;  and  gradually  his  ineffectual 
remonstrances  died  out  in  the  distance  of  upper  stories. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chesslebury  were  thus  left  to  themselves  and 
the  pitcher.  The  foxy  eyes  resumed  the  contemplation  of  the 
fire,  and  the  head  they  adorned  settled  itself  in  a  comfortable 
way,  and  resumed  consideration  of  the  difficult  question,  how 
to  acquit  the  Chesslebury  name  of  all  connection,  responsi- 


32  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

bility  and  sympathy,  with  the  unfortunate  cousin.  Mrs. 
Chesslebury,  with  the  aid  of  a  second  little  green  glass, 
quietly  produced  by  the  hand  of  the  thoughtful  Wilson, 
commenced  a  conversational  and  experimental  discussion  of 
the  equally  delicate  question,  whether  Scotch  whisky  tastes 
smoky. 


XII. 

JUNE,   1835. 


V 


THE  same  happy  village  that  was  graced  by  the  permanent 
residence  of  Miss  Provy  Pease,  the  hospitalities  of  whose  house 
were  so  freely  extended  to  the  wanderer,  had  been  a  short 
time  previously  enlivened  and  honored  by  the  accession  to  its 
society  of  Captain  John  Mayferrie. 

Captain  Mayferrie  was  what  you  would  call  a  gentlemanly 
man.  He  was  not  a  fop ;  for  he  dressed  with  a  plainness 
that  was  entirely  appropriate  to  the  social  atmosphere  of  a 
Connecticut  village.  He  was  not  obsequious,  nor  a  stickler 


34  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

for  etiquette ;  on  the  contrary,  his  manners  had  an  air  of 
simplicity  and  kindness  that  was  entirely  approved  by  the 
unsophisticated  of  Cone  Cut  Corners.  But  notwithstanding 
his  plainness  and  simplicity,  he  was  a  gentlemanly  man.  It 
shone  in  his  smile ;  it  made  itself  heard  in  every  tone  of  his 
voice  ;  it  was  evident  in  his  friendly  nod,  and  unmistakable  in 
his  very  tread. 

Captain  Mayferrie  was  a  farmer.  He  did  not  claim  to  be  a 
fine  gentleman,  though  he  was  a  gentlemanly  man.  He  could 
not  have  been  more  kind  than  his  rustic  neighbors,  but  he 
kneW  how  to  be  more  courteous. 

Every  thing  that  Captain  Mayferrie  did  was  well  done.  If 
he  planted  a  corn-field,  when  the  grain  came  up  there  were 
no  sickly  yellow  patches  in  it.  If  he  drained  a  swamp,  it 
never  had  to  be  done  again.  If  he  broke  a  colt,  the  colt  be- 
came a  perfect  lady's  horse,  in  the  matter  of  docility.  If  he 
made  hay,  it  never  fermented  in  the  barn.  No  one  need  rake 
after  Captain  Mayferrie.  And  all  the  while  he  worked  with 
such  a  hearty  good-will,  doing  things  well,  not  because  he 
could  do  them  well,  but  because  they  ought  to  be  done  well, 
that  he  quite  captivated  the  hearts  of  all  the  honest  farmers  in 
the  town ;  and  Calick  Pease,  leaning  on  his  scythe  to  catch 
a  moment's  breath,  would  watch  the  swinging  body  of  the 
indefatigable  captain  with  admiration,  and  declare  with  swel- 
tering brow  that  he  would  "  rather  mow  after  Captain  May- 
ferrie than  any  other  man  in  town." 

The  ladies  too,  found  qualities  not  to  be  resisted  in  the 
Captain.  They  also,  were  convinced  that  whatever  he  did  was 
well  done.  If  he  drove  down  to  the  village,  he  came  at  a 
good  round  pace  that  brought  every  body  to  the  window ; — 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  35 

and  with  a  horse,  too,  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  see.  If  he 
brought  a  load  of  wood  into  the  village  in  the  winter,  he  sat 
on  his  sled  so  much  at  home,  or  if  the  roads  were  bad,  he 
walked  so  independently  by  the  side  of  that  noble  yoke  of 
oxen,  that  his  passing  was  an  event  to  be  talked  of  at  any 
farm-house  on  the  road. 

And  then  when  he  came  into  meeting  on  Sunday  morning 
— which  he  always  did  with  a  regularity  Avhich  went  to  the 
heart  of  good  old  Elder  Graynes — he  walked  up  to  his  pew  so 
quietly,  that  his  fair  friends  had  to  keep  their  ears  open  to  see 
hmi ;  not  that  they  saw  him  with  those  organs,  not  at  all ; — 
but  the  way  they  were  informed  of  his  approach  was  by  a 
gentle  creak — the  slightest  possible  whisper  of  a  creak — in 
his  left  boot,  as  he  came  up  the  aisle.  This  gentle  creak  was 
rather  prepossessing  than  otherwise,  for  it  threw  the  accent 
upon  every  other  step,  and  gave  his  walk  a  slight  reminis- 
cence of  the  military,  very  different  from  the  noisy  complain- 
ings of  the  Sunday  boots  of  his  neighbors.  Every  thing  that 
he  did  was  gently  winning,  it  was  so  well  done. 

And  if  he  did  nothing,  it  was  all  the  same.  When  he 
stood  up  in  prayer  time,  if  he  stood  an  inch,  he  stood  six  feet. 

Moreover,  as  the  ladies  said,  he  possessed  the  estimable 
quality  of  minding  his  own  business;  a  habit  which  they 
seemed  fully  to  appreciate,  and  even  showed  a  laudable 
desire  to  help  him  in ;  for  never  was  any  man's  history  the 
subject  of  more  frequent  and  fruitless  speculations,  than  that 
of  Captain  Mayferrie.  He  was  a  very  mysterious  character. 
It  tasked  the  utmost  resources  of  his  gentlemanliness,  to  make 
his  mysteriousness  bearable.  But  Captain  Mayferrie  did  his 
best;  and  in  the  magic  influence  of  his  presence,  people 


3G  CONK     CUT     CORNERS. 

forgot  their  vexatious  ignorance  of  what  he  was,  and  where 
he  came  from.  His  sudden  appearance  among  them,  in  the 
semi-weekly  stage  from  New  York,  one  afternoon  in  the 
summer  before  the  incidents  already  related,  with  no  other 
letter  of  introduction  than  "  John  Mayferrie,"  in  a  bold  hand, 
tacked  to  his  trunk,  became  gradually  forgotten ;  and  ho  at 
last  became  one  of  the  community.  The  most  rustic  society 
ia,  in  its  way,  as  jealous  of  intrusion  as  the  most  exclusive 
circle  of  the  metropolis ;  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  Cap- 
tain Mayferrie  was  admitted  to  the  standing  of  a  Cone  Cutter. 
As  long  as  he  withheld  his  story,  there  was  no  way  for  him  to 
gain  that  position,  but  by  the  judicious  course  he  pursued. 
He  bought  a  farm  a  mile  above  the  village,  and  there  waited 
for  society  to  claim  him. 

He  was  a  gentlemanly  man,  and  society  did. 

There  were,  however,  those  whose  curiosity  was  more  than 
a  match  for  his  gentlemanliness.  Miss  Provy  Pease  for  one, 
did  not  know  what  to  make  of  him.  As  she  felt  however  that 
it  was  her  bounden  duty  to  make  something  of  him,  she 
watched  him  for  a  long  time  very  carefully,  to  see  what  he 
was  cut  out  for.  She  would  make  him  up,  she  said,  as  soon 
as  she  found  out.  It  will  be  unnecessary  to  remark  that  Miss 
Provy  Pease  was  the  village  seamstress.  She  was,  as  a  seam- 
stress always  ought  to  be,  a  smart,  bustling,  little  body ;  and, 
moreover,  she  was,  as  a  seamstress  sometimes  is,  the  news- 
paper of  the  neighborhood.  "Nay,  we  do  her  not  justice. 
She  was  a  perfect  electric  telegraph.  No  printing  press 
could  have  supplied  her  place.  Besides  plying  her  needle  on 
the  garments  of  the  villagers,  she  took  stitches,  ever  and 
anon,  in  the  social  fabric.  There  was  no  end  to  the  domestic 


CONE     CUT     COIINEBS.  37 

rents  into  which  she  had  thrust  her  needle.  With  an  expe- 
rience beyond  her  years,  and  an  activity  very  much  this  side 
of  them,  (and  she  considered  her  years  too  numerous  to  men- 
tion,) she  was  the  life  of  the  village. 

It  was  Miss  Pease  who  first  gave  Mr.  Mayferrie  the  title  of 
Captain,  in  the  village  of  Cone  Cut  Corners. 

Thus  it  was. 

One  summer  evening  she  was  coming  down  from  Elder 
Graynes',  where  she  had  been  to  make  him  a  present  of  a 
basket  of  currants  from  her  little  garden.  She  was  trotting 
down  the  hill  into  the  village,  when  she  saw  Mr.  Mayferrie 
coming  up,  on  his  way  home.  He  was  walking ;  very  erect, 
and  handsomely,  as  he  always  did. 

"Aha!"  said  Aunty  Pease,  as  she  approached  the  mys- 
terious being  who  was  the  great  subject  of  her  thoughts, 
sleeping  and  waking.  "  Aha !  here 's  the  man.  He  walks 
like  a  military  man ; — /  believe  he  is ; — I  '11  try  him  at 
any  rate." 

"  Good  evenin',  Captain  Mayferrie,"  cried  she. 

"  Oh !  good  evening,  Miss  Pease,"  said  the  gentlemanly  man, 
with  a  little  start.  "  A  beautiful  evening." 

"  Yes."  And  her  bright  eyes  twinkled  on  him  from  under 
an  immense  white  sun-bonnet,  in  the  remote  end  of  which, 
her  little  face  seemed  to  occupy  the  place  of  a  lining. 

"Been  up  to  see  our  good  minister,  I  suppose,"  said  the 
gentlemanly  man,  looking  at  the  fruit-colored  basket  in  her 
hand. 

"  Oh  !"  she  laughed,  "  only  two  or  three  currants  from  my 
bushes  ;  you  know  he  has  n't  got  any.  Good  evenin'  Captain 
Mayferrie,"  she  nodded,  and  away  she  skipped. 


38  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

It  was  not  in  her  nature  to  resist  looking  round,  Avith  a 
lurking  rogue  peeping  from  each  eye,  to  see  the  gentlemanly 
man  once  more.  The  gentlemanly  man  was  looking  back 
too.  Their  eyes  met.  She  saw  upon  his  face  a  look  of  per- 
plexity illumined  by  the  setting  sun.  He  could  not  discern, 
in  the  dim  distance  of  the  far  end  of  the  sun-bonnet,  what  her 
eyes  expressed.  But  he  heard  her  voice  again ; — "  Good 
evenin',  Captain  Mayferrie." 

And  away  she  spun.  "  Aha  !"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she 
danced  along.  "  Captain  Mayferrie  !  I  Ve  found  you  out ! 
You  're  a  captain.  I  '11  make  something  of  you  yet.  So  you 
are  a  military  man  ; — or  a  naval  officer  ; — no,  you  're  captain 
of  a  privateersman  ; — that 's  it !  You  might  as  well  have 
told  us  of  it.  But  we  know  it  now,  Captain  Mayferrie." 

The  triumphant  seamstress,  with  merry  step,  sped  along, 
bewildering  every  one  she  met  by  tacitly  nodding  toward 
them  a  face,  familiar  enough  in  its  features,  but  unexampled 
in  its  expression  of  superhuman  intelligence  concentrated 
upon  one  single  point.  She  stopped  to  speak  to  nobody. 
Not  even  to  Calick,  who  was  milking  in  her  yard.  But  toss- 
ing her  basket  over  the  fence,  away  she  went,  past  her  own 
door,  at  the  same  exulting  pace.  The  telegraph  was  about  to 
put  herself  in  communication  with  a  favorite  station,  Mrs. 
Deacon  Ficksom,  operator.  By  the  time  she  came  in  sight 
of  Deacon  Ficksom's  house,  she  seemed  to  have  repressed  her 
triumph,  and  she  became  perfectly  calm,  except  the  rogue  in 
each  eye,  when  she  entered  his  gate. 

"  Good  evenin',  Mis'  Ficksom,"  she  cried  to  that  lady,  who 
was  sitting  just  within  the  open  door,  with  a  very  new  baby  in 
her  arms.  "  Why  !  and  that 's  the  little  stranger,  is  it  ?  What 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  .  39 

a  beauty !  And  how  well  you  look.  'T  ain't  every  body 
that  gets  up  so  soon.  I  'm  sure  we  ought  to  be  thankful," 
she  continued,  pulling  off  the  long  sun-bonnet  to  get  her  face 
to  the  baby's  for  a  kiss  ;  "  Yes,  very" — a  kiss — "  very" — an- 
other kiss,  and  then  three  more  "  verys"  punctuated  with  al- 
ternate kisses — "  thankful" — and  then  a  kiss  which  for  length 
and  strength  was  entirely  worthy  to  be  a  final  kiss  and  a  full 
period  to  the  sentence.  Final  it  was  ;  for  as  the  infant  showed 
some  signs  of  not  feeling  at  ease  under  this  novel  and  unac- 
countable demonstration,  the  prudent  Miss  Provy  desisted, 
and  stood  winking  at  him,  tasting  her  lips  with  her  tongue, 
and  giving  the  result  in  the  exclamation  ;  "And  what  a  sweet 
cherub  it  is  too  !" 

The  mother  made  no  reply  to  Miss  Pease,  but  looked  at 
the  child  with  a  mother's  eye. 

And  of  what  can  Miss  Provy  Pease  be  thinking,  that  her 
eyes  twinkle  so,  and  her  little  mouth  gets  all  ready  to  say  a 
word,  and  then  suddenly  relaxes  before  she  says  any  thing,  and 
she  falls  to  admiring  the  baby  again  ? 

"What  are  you  going  to  name  it1?"  said  she.  "The 
lit-tle-de-ar !" 

"  That 's  just  what  we  Ve  been  a  talking  about,"  said  the 
Deacon,  coming  forward  from  within,  and  presenting  to  view 
a  countenance  very  prominent,  by  reason  of  a  great  stoop  in 
his  shoulders. 

This  countenance  was  of  large  expanse,  when  you  regarded 
it  as  whole,  but  when  considering  the  features  individually, 
you  wondered  that  so  many  and  so  huge  features  could  be 
put  together,  without  making  even  a  larger  visage  than  they 
did.  In  fact  the  Deacon  had  more  features  than  any  other 


40  *  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

man  in  town.  There  was  a  double  chin,  and  every  now  and 
then,  as  he  spoke,  a  promise  of  a  third.  Then  there  was  a 
prominence  below  each  eye,  as  well  as  above — a  sort  of 
nether  eyebrow,  though  bald.  And  then  his  cheeks  were  so 
large,  that  his  mouth  had  to  build  a  semi-circular  embank- 
ment and  moat  on  each  side  of  itself  for  protection.  Still, 
with  all  its  fatness,  the  Deacon's  face  had  a  hard,  ill-favored 
expression,  that  was  quite  striking.  As  if  he  were  desirous  to 
avail  himself  of  these  advantages  for  making  faces,  he  was 
accustomed  to  enforce  the  sentiments  of  his  conversation 
with  a  look  that  he  deemed  appropriate  to  the  thought  and 
its  occasion. 

At  the  present  speaking  this  remarkable  visage  was  very 
rough  upon  one  side,  by  means  of  a  stiff  beard ;  and  very  ten- 
der on  the  other  side,  by  reason  of  a  dull  razor;  which 
implement,  then  in  his  hand,  had  been  interrupted  in  its 
Saturday  night's  reaping,  by  the  arrival  of  Miss  Provy 


"  That 's  just  what  we  Ve  been  a  talking  about,"  said  he, 
with  his  razor  in  one  hand,  and  his  strop  in  the  other.  "  Now, 
what  do  you  say,  Miss  Pease  ?" 

She  did  not  answer.  Perhaps  she  was  in  doubt  about  the 
gender  ;  perhaps  she  was  thinking  of  the  Captain. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  William  T  suggested  the  mother, 
timidly.  "  That  was  his  grandfather's  name." 

"Ain't  I  told  you  again  an'  again,  I  won't  have  him 
named  such  a  name  as  that  ?  Ain't  a  good  name  better'n 
great  riches  ?  an'  where  you  going  to  find  a  good  name,  if 
't  'ain't  in  Scripter  ?  Eh  ?" 

"How  would  John  do?"  said  the  mother,  mildly,  as   if 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  41 

she  felt  it  her  immediate  duty  to  make  restitution  for  the 
worthless  sxiggestion. 

"  Oh  !  no  !  Not  John  !"  exclaimed  the  twinkling-eyed 
Miss  Pease,  in  a  tone  that  added,  that  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

"  Why  not  John  ?"  demanded  the  Deacon. 

"Because,"  said  the  telegraph,  mysteriously,  trying  to  make 
her  twinkling  eyes  be  still.  "Because  that's  the  Capp'n's 
name." 

"  Capp'n  !    Capp'n  who  ?" 

"  Why,  Capp'n  Mayferrie,  of  course ;  what  other  capp'n 
should  I  mean,"  said  the  exulting  telegraph,  with  all  the 
innocence  of  expression  she  could  command. 

"  Is  he  a  capp'n  ?"  asked  the  Deacon. 

"  So  they  say." 

"  He  looks  like  a  military  man,"  said  Mrs.  Ficksom,  in 
confirmation. 

"  He  is  a  man  of  blood,  I  fear,"  said  the  Deacon  solemnly ; 
and  he  shook  his  head  with  a  look  that  spoke  volumes  of 
Peace  Tracts. 

"  I'm  afraid  it 's  worse  'n  that,"  said  the  telegraph,  address- 
ing herself  to  the  wife.  "  I've  hearn  it  said," — the  telegraph 
thought  that  as  she  heard  it  as  fast  as  she  said  it,  she  made 
facts  keep  up  with  her  statements,  and  stood  on  good  terms 
with  the  truth — "  I've  hearn  it  said  that  he  was  capp'n  of  a 
privateersman." 

«Do  tell !"  said  Mrs.  Ficksom. 

The  Deacon  got  out  another  edition  of  the  Peace  Tracts, 
enlarged  and  improved ;  and  said  it  was  what  he  had  feared 
all  along. 


42  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"So  IVe  hcarn  it  said,"  repeated  the  telegraph.  To  her 
ears  this  phrase  expressed  the  best  of  authority. 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  he  was  a  pirate,"  said  the  Deacon, 
taking  upon  his  sleeve  a  proof  of  the  cuts  with  which  he  had 
illustrated  his  cheek.  "  I  *d  inform  again'  him  if  'twant  for 
having  him  hanged,"  he  continued  ;  and  he  issued  a  short 
essay  against  Capital  Punishment. 

"  I  don't  believe  he 's  any  thing  more  'n  a  militia  capp'n," 
doubted  the  telegraph. 

"  I  do  !"  said  the  Deacon,  publishing  a  sermon  on  Faith. 

"  He  looks  like  a  clever  man,"  interposed  Mrs.  Ficksom, 
commencing  to  rock  again ;  an  operation  which  she  had  sus- 
pended on  mention  of  the  Captain's  name. 

"  "We  don't  know  any  thing  about  him,"  said  the  Deacon, 
somewhat  abruptly,  "  and  we  don't  want  to.  What  shall  we 
name  the  baby  ?  Eh  ?" 

"  An'  so  he 's  a  capp'n,"  continued  the  Deacon,  after  brief 
silence.  "And  who  told  you  so  ?  Eh  ?"  and  he  turned  short 
upon  Miss  Pease,  looking  a  whole  library  full  of  minute  his- 
torical investigations. 

"  Call  him er George,"  suggested  the  telegraph, 

evading  the  question. 

"  No  !"  said  the  father,  with  the  intonation  of  a  torpedo, 
and  a  countenance  as  expressive  of  decision  of  character  as  is 
the  title  page  of  the  celebrated  essay  on  that  subject.  "  No  ! 
't  is  not  in  Scripter." 

"  Oh !" 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?"  persisted  the  Deacon. 

"  Call  him" — began  the  electric  telegraph,  here  hesitating 
for  a  name  and  her  sun-bonnet — "  call  him,"  said  she,  step- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  43 

ping  briskly  out  of  the  door — "  call  him  Beelzebub ;  that 's  in 
Scripter." 

And  away  went  the  little  old  maid  with  all  the  air  of  one 
who  is  conscious  of  having  accomplished  her  mission  on  earth, 
in  much  less  than  the  given  time. 

Mrs.  Ficksom  laughed  faintly.  Mr.  Ficksom  published  a 
tremendous  sermon  on  Profane  Swearing,  in  which  he  seemed 
to  take  it  for  granted  that  such  a  use  of  the  name  suggested, 
was  expressly  forbidden  by  the  third  commandment. 

"  Miss  Pease  don't  think  much  of  Scripter  names,"  said  the 
mother. 

The  Deacon  said  nothing ;  but  turning  to  the  looking-glass 
reviewed  his  last  work. 

Miss  Pease's  taste  in  this  respect  was  what  one  would  an- 
ticipate. Her  father  was  a  good  old  elder,  who  had  long  gone 
childless  ;  and  when  at  last  almost  hopeless,  he  was  presented 
with  a  daughter,  he  insisted  on  christening  her  Providence 
Permitting  Pease.  During  a  long  life  Providence  had  per- 
mitted her  to  remain  Pease.  No  wonder  that  the  little  old 
maid  thought  her  name  inauspicious. 

Next  morning  the  baby  was  baptized  at  meeting.  Good 
old  Elder  Graynes  looked  more  benignant  than  ever,  as  he 
came  gently  down  the  pulpit  stairs  to  perform  the  rite,  and 
his  mild  eye  rested  kindly  on  the  little  one,  as  he  inclined  his 
head  to  speak  with  the  father.  The  worthy  Deacon  put  his 
large  mouth,  wide  open,  to  the  minister's  ear.  It  looked  dan- 
gerous. But  he  only  said,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "  Isaac  Cart- 
rock."  As  he  uttered  the  first  word,  his  visage,  to  one  who 
could  have  read  it,  was  a  complete  treatise  on  Scripture 
names.  As  he  pronounced  the  second  name,  his  countenance 


44  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

edited  a  work  on  the  importance  of  wealth,  and  the  advan- 
tages of  naming  a  poor  boy  after  a  rich  relative. 

The  same  day  that  thus  brought  a  name  to  the  deacon's 
offspring,  affixed  indelibly  the  new  title  to  Mr.  Mayferrie.  For 
the  Deacon  himself,  having  revolved  the  subject  in  his  capa- 
cious mind,  with  a  view  to  getting  the  start  of  Miss  Pease  in 
the  public  promulgation,  of  the  news,  ingeniously  contrived  to 
take  to  himself  all  the  credit  of  the  discovery,  by  rising 
gravely  at  the  evening  prayer  meeting,  and  calling  upon  Cap- 
tain John  Mayferrie  to  make  some  remarks. 

Henceforward  was  Mr.  Mayferrie  always  known  as  "the 
Captain." 


IV. 

DECEMBER,   1885. 


AUNT  Provy's 
little  brown  cot- 
tage, which  look- 
ed more  like  a 
model  upon  the 
scale  of  an  inch 
to  the  foot,  than 
an  inhabitable 
edifice,  was  Cal- 
ick's  home ;  for 
though  he  work- 
ed constantly  for  Captain  Mayferrie  upon  the  farm,  he  per- 
sisted in  going  down  into  the  village  every  night  to  stay  with 
her,  as  she  lived  otherwise  alone.  Calick  always  pretended  that 
he  did  this  for  company.  But  those  actions  which  speak  louder 
than  words,  ay  !  and  sweeter  too,  signified  to  her  grateful  heart 
thai  it  was  not  his  pleasure,  but  her  comfort  that  he  sought. 


46  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Calick  was  a  hearty  hand  at  a  husking ;  he  was  a  merry 
boy  oil  a  moonlight  sleigh-ride ;  as  companionable  a  fisher- 
man as  you  could  find  in  the  county;  and  perfectly  indis- 
pensable at  a  raising.  No  "  sugaring  off,''  was  so  good  as  that 
at  which  Calick  made  rude  wooden  spoons  and  equally  un- 
couth merriment  for  the  company. 

Yet,  if  you  would  put  Calick  in  his  true  element,  set  him  at 
work.  Nothing  pleased  him  so  well  as  a  hard  job  in  view. 
On  the  bitterest  winter's  day  he  would  rather  keep  warm  by 
the  saw-horse  than  by  the  kitchen  fire.  A  meadow  full  of 
haycocks,  and  a  thunder-cloud  in  the'  west,  was  a  beautiful 
landscape  to  his  eye.  When  he  could  find  nothing  better  to 
do,  it  was  a  very  pleasant  recreation  to  him  to  turn  the  grind- 
stone by  the  hour  for  the  Captain,  until  the  tools,  hoes  in- 
cluded, were  much  sharper  than  Deacon  Ficksom's  razor. 
There  were  no  gates  lingering  out  a  miserable  existence  upon 
broken  hinges,  at  either  of  the  places  under  his  supervision. 
There  were  no  such  fences  in  town  as  the  Captain's.  There 
was  not  such  a  pleasant  little  stoop  in  the  village  as  Aunt 
Provy  had  at  her  door,  with  honeysuckle,  last  summer,  trailing 
all  over  it,  and  one  ambitious  branch  spreading  its  wings  to 
fly  upon  the  roof.  There  was  nowhere  else  to  be  found  such 
a  wood-yard  as  the  Captain  has  this  very  winter,  sheltered 
from  bleak  winds  on  two  sides  by  the  shed  and  the  house, 
and  on  the  third  by  an  enormous  pile  of  noble  wood,  planned 
by  the  thoughtful  Calick,  so  as  almost  to  complete  the  inclo- 
sure.  For  this  was  his  playground,  at  leisure  moments  ;  and 
the  ax  was  his  toy. 

Upon  the  cold  morning  succeeding  the  cold  night  in  which 
the  wanderer  found  shelter  at  Miss  Provy  Pease's  house. 


CONE     CUT    -CORNERS.  47 

Calick,  rising  early  as  was  his  custom,  groped  the  way  from 
liis  little  bedroom  down  the  steep  stairs  which  led  into  his 
aunt's  kitchen.  There  ho  proceeded,  with  the  utmost  gentle- 
ness and  economy  of  sound,  to  build  a  fire  on  the  broad 
hearth.  But  notwithstanding  his  unusual  care,  the  kindling 
flames  had  scarcely  begun  to  sparkle,  when  the  adjoining 
door  opened  a  little  way,  and  the  sepulchral  whisper  of  Miss 
Boggs  entered  the  room,  followed  by  her  head,  which  ap- 
peared in  a  condition  betokening  that  no  more  of  her  person 
was  in  a  condition  to  appear. 

"  Calick,"  asked  the  nurse,  «  is  that  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  fanning  the  fire  with  a  piece  of  bark. 

"  It 's  a  girl !  Calick,"  said  the  nurse,  in  a  triumphant 
whisper,  "  It 's  a  girl !  A  perfect  beauty  as  ever  I  see." 

"Is  if?"  said  he,  looking  up.    "And  how's  the  mother?" 

"  Oh,  the  poor  woman !  she  's  sick.  O-o-h  !  she  's  sick. 
She  hasn't  much  life  left ;  poor  soul." 

"I  must  go  up  to  the  Captain's,"  said  Calick,  after  a 
moment's  pause.  "  Tell  aunt  that  I  shall  come  down  again, 
as  soon  as  I  can  after  breakfast." 

Accordingly  Calick  soon  quietly  withdrew,  and  betook 
himself,  in  the  cold  gray  light  of  dawn,  toward  Mr.  May- 
feme's.  It  was  a  long  walk,  and  somewhat  laborious  too,  in 
the  deep,  new  fallen  snow,  and  it  was  bright  morning — 
almost  sunrise— when  he  reached  the  house. 

Thence  to  the  wood-yard  with  the  ax. 

And  what  a  lusty  chopping  he  commences  then,  so  early 
this  bright  frosty  morning !  With  what  a  merry  ring  the  ax, 
keen  as  the  air  it  cuts,  falls  on  the  snow-encrusted  log !  How 

merrily  the  broad  chips  fly,  right  and  left,  falling  noiselessly 

- 


48  CONECUTCORNERS. 

in  the  fresh  snow !  How  exhilaratingly  the  smooth  ax-helve 
glides  through  the  hand,  and  what  a  healthful  shock  runs 
through  his  frame,  as  the  ax  strikes  the  log  !  What  are  all 
magnetic  tortures  ever  invented,  compared  to  this  ?  What  a 
bright  glow  of  countenance  from  under  that  shaggy  fur  cap, 
as  he  stops  to  roll  the  log  over  with  his  foot !  Then  again  the 
merry  ring  of  the  ax,  and  the  swift  chips  fly.  The  broad 
notch  sinks  and  narrows  as  it  goes.  At  every  blow  the 
weakening  log  complains  in  more  hollow  voice ;  till  at  last 
the  skillful  hand  with  gentler  strokes  strikes  through.  And 
now  the  next  victim  comes  tumbling  down  the  slanting  pile, 
and  again  the  swift  chips  fly  their  enemy  the  ax. 

And  soon,  as  breakfast  time  draws  near,  the  ax  retires  to 
rest  in  the  shed,  the  icy  boots  stamp  till  their  inmates  tingle 
again,  and  honest  Calick  entering  the  house,  avers  that  he 
feels  as  if  he  could  eat  the  corn-barn.  But  there  is  no  need  of 
that;  and  he  very  soon  forgets  it  in  contemplation  of  the 
preparations  which  Martha  is  making  at  the  breakfast-table. 
There  is  the  smoking  brown  loaf,  and  there  goes  the  golden 
butter,  and  the  cheese,  and  the  apple-sauce,  and  the  milk- 
pitcher — oh,  ye  city  eyes  !  would  you  believe  that  that  stream 
of  richness  which  flows  from  the  huge  brown  pitcher  into  the 
eager  Calick's  bowl,  is  nothing  more  than  milk — mere  milk  ? 
Stop,  honest  Calick !  before  you  put  that  huge  spoon  and  its 
swimming  contents  into  your  opened  mouth;  are  you  suffi- 
ciently thankful  for  being  allowed  that  luxury,  when  so  many 
other  wiser  heads  do  not  know  what  milk  is  ?  Have 
you,  good  Calick,  sufficiently  pondered  on  the  innumerable 
little  boys  and  girls  who  drink  chalk  and  water  1 

Calick  however  has  no  knowledge  of  the  milk  that  rises  to 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  49 

the  bottom ;  and  if  be  bad,  he  has  no  thought  to  spend  in 
an  analysis  of  that  fluid  this  morning;  for  Mr.  Mayferrie 
entering  the  kitchen  just  now,  he  immediately  commences  to 
recount  to  him  the  incidents  of  the  previous  evening.  At 
first  the  Captain  pays  only  his  usual  gentlemanly  attention  to 
the  conversation ;  but  at  last,  being  perhaps  touched  by  the 
detail  of  the  simple  narrative,  he  seems  to  take  great  interest 
in  the  occurrence,  and  with  great  minuteness  questions  him 
upon  all  the  particulars. 

"  And  I  wish,  sir,"  says  Calick,  after  he  had  answered  for 
the  second  or  third  time,  what  the  nurse  had  said  about 
the  mother  and  child  that  morning — "And  I  wish,  sir,  you 
would  go  down  and  see  aunt  this  mornin'.  I  think  the  poor 
mother 's  in  a  very  bad  case,  and  if  she  should  n't  live,  what 
would  become  of  the  baby  ?  We  shan't  hardly  know  what 
to  do ;  and  aunt  would  be  glad  enough  to  see  you." 

Captain  Mayferrie  made  no  reply ;  he  sat  in  silence,  con- 
templating vacuity,  and  disregarded  the  attractions  of  the 
table.  It  was  not  until  the  others  had  nearly  finished  their 
meal,  that  he  emerged  from  silence  and  returned  to  con- 
versation. 

"  Martha,"  says  he,  "  have  you  finished  those  mittens  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

Martha's  "  no,  sir,"  is  somehow  or  other  not  very  unlike  her 
bread ;  being  rather  crisp  and  crusty,  yet  not  at  all  sour,  and 
quite  palatable  to  honest  Calick. 

"  When  will  they  be  done  ?"  asks  the  gentlemanly  man. 

Calick  looks  at  Martha  to  wait  for  the  answer ;  he  is  pretty 
sure  that  Martha  will  not  see  him  looking  at  her,  because  she 
is  talking  to  the  Captain. 

3 


50  CONK    CUT    CORNERS. 

"  I  should  have  finished  'em  last  night,  but — Calick  you 
want  some  more  coffee  ?" 

"  Oh,  no !"  exclaims  Calick,  and  plunging  into  his  plate  he 
endeavors  to  bury  his  confusion  there. 

The  mischievous  Martha  returns  to  the  subject  by  saying 
they  are  all  done  but  the  fringe. 

"  Oh !  never  mind  the  fringe,"  says  the  Captain,  "  they  'II 
do  as  they  are,  I  '11  warrant." 

"  Why,  you  'd  freeze  your  pulses,"  cries  Martha ;  "  'twont 
do  without  a  fringe." 

"  How  long  will  it  take  to  make  the  fringe  ?"  asks  the  gen- 
tlemanly man,  cutting  a  slice  of  bread  with  the  carving  knife. 

"  I  could  finish  'em  in  half  an  hour,  I  should  think,"  replies 
Martha,  casting  a  demure  glance  at  Calick  to  see  if  he  wants 
more  coffee.  But  Calick  has  not  forgotten  himself  so  soon. 

"  I  wish  you  would  do  it  after  breakfast,"  says  the  Captain. 
"  I  will  go  down  to  the  village.  And  Calick,  you  may  har- 
ness the  horse  when  the  mittens  are  done  |  Martha,  you  tell 
him  when." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

In  due  time  the  horse  is  at  the  door.  The  Captain  puts  into 
the  sleigh-box  a  stone  jug  with  a  corn-cob  cork,  and  then  they 
both  take  their  seats.  The  Captain  takes  the  reins  from  Ca- 
lick's  hands,  and  touches  up 'the  horse  in  the  most  gentle- 
manly manner  possible.  With  a  jerk  that  rattles  the  corn-cob 
corked  jug  beneath  them  in  a  fearful  manner,  the  horse  starts 
off  down  the  road. 

Away !  with  merry  bells ;  the  light  dry  snow  on  tree  and 
shrub,  on  fence  and  wall,  and  on  the  broad  expanse  of  span- 
gled fields,  sparkling  defiance  to  the  morning  sun.  Away ' 


CONE     CUT     COR  NEKS.  51 

with  merry  bells ;  the  very  road  singing  beneath  us  with  joy. 
Away!  with  merry  bells;  inciting  the  snow-flakes  to  fly 
along  our  path  in  unsuccessful  races.  Away!  with  merry 
bells ;  past  forests  that  stand  huddled  together,  shivering  in 
their  scanty  winter  attire ; — over  the  little  bridge,  where  the 
gurgling  waters,  winter-bound,  h/ive  cut  all  manner  of  antics 
in  the  attempt  to  get  free,  and  have  been  petrified  in  the  act. 
Away  !  with  merry  bells ;  through  great  drifts  of  newly  fallen 
snow,  plunging  in  and  coming  out  in  a  breath,  as  if  there 
were  no  such  things  in  the  way.  Away !  with  merry  bells, 
and  merry  speed ;  slueing  hither  and  thither  at  sudden  turns, 
as  if  determined  to  slide  over  the  buried  fence,  in  spite  of  the 
horse.  Away  !  with  merry  bells ;  down  the  hill,  the  horse's 
dancing  feet  showering  snowy  castings  of  themselves  upon  the 
sleigh  behind  them ; — past  farm-house  and  barn-yard  where 
cattle  stand  knee-deep  in  snow,  munching  their  breakfast  in 
the  open  air,  and  looking  lazily  at  the  passers-by.  Away ! 
with  merry  bells ;  nodding  a  smile  in  silence  to  the  trudging 
teamster,  who  toils  with  patient  oxen  .through  the  drifts. 
Away !  with  merry  bells ;  by  the  little  school-house  where 
children  have  just  begun  to  gather  for  the  day,  and  now 
dropping  their  snow-balls,  stand  in  dazzled  admiration  as  we 
pass.  Onward  !  with  merry  bells  ;  for  here  we  come  in  sight 
of  curling  smoke  from  village  chimneys  rising  over  the  hill, 
and  now  below  us  in  the  valley  we  see  the  snow-thatched 
roofs,  and  now  the  newly  whitened  street.  Onward  !  with 
merry  bells ;  down  the  hill,  ringing  away  past  good  old  Elder 
Graynes,  who  stands  with  snow-shovel  in  hand,  clearing  a 
path  to  his  front  door,  and  enjoying  the  morning  air.  On- 
ward !  with  merry  bells ;  for  ours  are  the  loudest,  sharpest, 


52  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

clearest,  sweetest  cliime  in  town,  and  should  make  their  little 
rolling,  ringing  tongues  be  heard.  Onward!  with  merry 
bells,  and  merrier  speed,  past  the  little  inch-to-the-foot  model 
of  a  house,  bringing  Aunty  Pease  to  the  window  at  the  well- 
known  sound.  Onward !  with  merry  bells ;  catching  a 
glimpse  of  the  large-visaged  Deacon,  standing  in  his  doorway, 
looking  a  sermon  upon  the  depravity  of  Jehu.  Onward !  with 
merry  bells ;  taking  a  sweeping  turn  around  the  town  pump, 
whose  nose  is  afflicted  with  a  frozen  cold  in  the  head,  and 
stopping  short  at  the  very  last  moment,  at  a  post  before  the 
door  of  Gregory  Donoe. 

Whew !  what  a  ride !  what  blue  noses !  what  numb  hands ! 
what  a  smoking  horse  ! 

The  blue  noses  and  the  numb  hands  find  gradual  relief  at 
the  hospitable  stove  of  Gregory  Donoe.  The  smoking  horse, 
with  the  mitigation  of  a  buffalo  robe  over  him,  and  a  bunch 
of  hay  under  his  nose  to  occupy  his  attention,  must  smoke  it 
out. 

"  GREGORY  DONOE,"  painted  on  a  board,  and  hung  over  the 
door,  indicates  to  the  visitor  that  the  miscellaneous  assortment 
of  merchandise  seen  in  the  frosty  and  dusty  window,  is  for 
sale — although  in  themselves  the  articles  are  far  from  being 
very  suggestive  or  attractive  to  the  spirit  of  traffic ; — and  that 
they  are  the  stock  in  trade  of  Gregory  Donoe,  who  is  the 
man  that  undertakes  to  sell  them.  If  the  visitor  has  time, 
such  a  cold  morning,  to  turn  and  look  around,  he  will  learn 
from  another  sign — a  swinging  sign  this — hung  midway 
upon  the  stem  of  a  tall  elm  before  the  door,  that  Gregory 
Donoe  adds  to  his  business  in  trade,  the  profession  of  hospi- 
tality. And  if  he  were  to  go  further  and  enter  the  door  at 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  63 

the  other  end  of  the  front,  which  is  more  particularly  the 
tavern  door,  in  contradistinction  to  the  store  door  at  this  end, 
and  entering  should  demand  a  share  of  that  entertainment  for 
man  and  beast  proffered  in  yellow  letters  without,  he  would 
find  himself  received  by  Gregory  Donoe  with,  considerable 
surprise  at  the  event,  with  many  expressions  of  curiosity  and 
personal  interest,  and  with  a  laudable  desire  to  please,  re- 
iterated in  the  invariable  answer  to  every  request,  "  We  '11  see 
if  we  can  accommodate  you."  The  surprise  of  the  host  at  re- 
ceiving a  guest,  could  only  be  exceeded  by  the  curiosity  of  the 
attaches  of  the  establishment,  who  comprise  the  members  of 
his  family ;  and  who  would  be  found  on  service  of  silent  at- 
tention, in  dark  corners,  looking  on ;  or  from  banisters  above, 
looking  down  ;  or  at  cracks  of  doors,  looking  through. 

Captain  Mayferrie  and  Calick,  needing  no  professional  hos- 
pitality from  the  host,  pay  no  attention  to  the  swinging  sign  ; 
but  enter  the  little  store,  and  greet  the  storekeeper. 

"  A  cold  morning,"  says  a  large  man  with  a  small  head, 
one  of  three  around  the  stove,  as  our  friends  enter,  and  who, 
if  we  may  judge  by  the  deliberate  way  in  which  he  opens  the 
door  and  crams  in  fuel,  is  Gregory  Donoe  himself. 

"Yes,"  responds  the  Captain,  "extremely  cold  for  these 
parts." 

"Unus'l,"  says  a  gentleman  with  watery  eyes  and  a  red 
nose,  which  is  perhaps  but  blushing  at  the  ardent  gaze  of  the 
hot  stove  pipe  before  him. 

The  speaker  is  sitting  on  a  nail  keg  behind  the  stove  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  bring  one  knee  on  each  side  of  it ;  which  is 
evidently  a  favorite  position  of  his,  in  the  season  for  it,  for  his 
pantaloons  are  perceptibly  browned  on  the  inside  of  either  leg. 


54  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"Stinging  cold,"  said  the  third,  a  very  dusty  gentleman, 
speaking  apparently  to  himself,  after  a  short  pause,  as  if  the 
thought  had  just  reached  him,  and  nodding  confidentially  at  a 
stack  of  new  brooms  opposite  him ;  which  were  a  part  of  the 
"  new  goods  for  the  season  just  opened  and  for  sale  by  Gregoiy 
Donoe." 

"  Got  any  more  corn  ?"  inquired  the  proprietor  of  the  estab- 
lishment, seating  himself  upon  his  counter  and  drumming 
with  his  heels  upon  it. 

"Me  ?"  said  the  Captain. 

Mr.  Donoe,  finding  his  seat  rather  cold,  transferred  his  per- 
son to  a  butter  firkin  in  the  vicinity  of  the  gentleman  who  in- 
habited the  nail  keg,  saying  "  Ye — s,  you,  ye — s." 

".Oh,  yes  !"  answered  the  Captain,  "  I  Ve  got  more.  What 
do  you  want  to  allow  for  it  ?" 

The  large  man  turned  his  small  head  away  from  the  Cap- 
tain, and  a  pair  of  sharp  eyes  toward  him,  and  said  interrog- 
atively, "  four  and  threepence  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Captain.     «  Libbitt !" 

"  What  ?"  said  that  gentleman,  after  bringing  his  conference 
with  the  brooms  to  a  close,  and  turning  slowly  around  so  as 
to  face  the  Captain. 

"  Are  you  driving  your  ash-pung  now  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Libbitt,  reverting  to  the  group  of  brooms. 

"  Libbitt,  I  '11  sell  you  those  cheap,"  said  Gregory  Donoe. 

"  What  do  I  want  of  a  broom  ?"  said  Libbitt,  with  the  em- 
phasis of  intense  contempt.  "Here  I've  lived  in  dust  and 
ashes  these — I  do'no'  how  long ;  what  would  I  be  better  for  a 
broom  ?" 

"  Cleaner,"  suggested  the  man  in  scorched  pantaloons. 


CONS     CUT     CORNERS.  55 

"  When  a  man  tells  me,  or  hints  to  me,"  said  the  dusty  gen- 
tleman with  increasing  energy,  "  that  brooms  is  any  mortal 
use  to  any  body,  I  concludes  that  man  don't  know  what  he  's 
made  of.  I  do  know  what  I  'm  made  of,  and  I  ain't  ashamed 
o'  the  material,  not  in  the  least.  Why !"  exclaimed  he,  struck 
with  a  strong  figure,  "  a  man's  cleanin'  himself  is  as  ridicul'us 
as  tryin'  to  get  lint  off  broadcloth ;  it  won't  come  off ;  if  it 
does,  it  won't  stay  off;  and  if  it  was  off  for  good,  you  'd  only 
be  the  wus  off  for  it ;  for  what  is  your  broadcloth  but  lint  ?  / 
say  the  more  lint  the  thicker  your  coat  is,  an'  the  warmer  you 
be.  I  would 'nt  make  any  objections  to  people's  doin'  what 
they  like  with  'emselves  ;  not  a  bit ;  on  the  contrary,  I  make 
soap  to  help  'em.  They  thinks  it  cleans  'em.  If  they  'd  only 
come  an'  see  what  things  I  put  in  it,  they  'd  get  sick  of  that 
idea  shortly." 

"  You  won't  let  any  body  in,"  complained  the  scorched  gen- 
tleman. 

"  Good  reason  why  !"  cried  the  dusty  gentleman,  "  'T  would 
spile  my  business." 

"Well,  Gregory,  how  much  corn  did  you  want?"  said 
the  Captain,  "though  I  don't  think  I  can  afford  it  at  that 
price.  'Tis  the  best,  my  very  best; — better  than  last 
year's." 

Gregory  said  nothing. 

"Libbitt,"  said  the  Captain,  turning  toward  him,  "if  you 
are  up  my  way  this  week,  I  wish  you  'd  call ;  my  ash-hole  is 
about  full.  Calick,  get  the  jug  if  you  please,  I  want  Mr. 
Donoe  to  draw  me  some  vinegar." 

The  scorched  gentleman  showed  the  red  nose  on  one  side 
of  the  stove  pipe,  and  exhibited  with  the  one  watery  eye  that 


56  CONE   err   CORNERS! 

was  visible,  a  considerable  interest  in  the  subject  of  vinegar. 
But  he  said  nothing. 

"  Oh !  Gregory,"  cried  the  Captain,  just  as  the  storekeeper 
reached  the  door  of  the  back  room,  "  have  you  got  any  more 
of  that  molasses  ?  I  shall  want  some  soon." 

"  Fve  got  some  I  think  's  better,"  replied  Gregory,  "  come 
and  try  it." 

Gregory  disappeared,  and  the  Captain  followed  him. 

"Vinegar,"  said  the  gentleman  with  the  scorched  panta- 
loons, to  himself,  nodding  slowly,  and  at  a  convenient  distance 
from  the  stove  pipe,  "  and  molasses,  together  in  proper  pro- 
portions, and  diluted,  form  a  very  agreeable  drink.  H'm," 
and  his  face  gradually  relaxed  into  a  complacent  smile  at 
the  stove  pipe. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  Captain  from  the  inner 
room. 

"Is  that  vinegar  or  molasses?"  continued  the  scorched 
gentleman,  soliloquizing.  "Vinegar  is  sharp,  stinijinw', 
scrapes  your  throat,  ugh !  that  must  be  the  molasses.  I M 
like  to  know  where  he  keeps  that  hogshead.  I'd  get 
under  the  floor  some  night  with  a  gimlet,  and  milk  the 
critter." 

Just  as  Gregory  and  the  Captain  emerged  from  the  back- 
room, the  Deacon  came  in  from  the  street  door. 

"  Good  morning,  Deacon  Ficksom,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  Good  morning,"  replied  the  Deacon,  a  little  coldly. 

"  Stinging  cold  day,"  said  the  Captain. 

"What  a  helter-skelter  driver  you  are,  Capp'n  Mayferrie. 
Nobody 's  any  business  to  be  driving  through  our  quiet 
streets  in  such  a  noisy  style.  Dangerous,  too." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  57 

"  Not  a  bit,  sir,"  replied  the  Captain.  "  Here,  Calick,  set 
that  in  the  sleigh,"  said  he,  handing  him  the  jug. 

"You'll  kill  that  horse  of  yours,"  continued  the  Deacon, 
looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  animal.  He 's  a  coughing 
now;"  and  the  Deacon's  ample  features  expressed  a  whole 
library  upon  the  Veterinary  Art. 

"Bless,  you,  Deacon,"  cried  Mr..Mayferrie,  merrily,  "you 
don 't  know  any  thing  about  it.  Calick,"  he  continued  "  you 
can  drive  up  to  your  aunt  Provy's  now ;  I  will  come  along  in 
half  an  hour." 

"  I  guess  I  '11  go  along  with  you  Calick,"  said  the  Deacon, 
availing  himself  of  the  opportunity  for  a  ride.  "  But  Capp'n, 
you  ought  n't  to  drive  so  furious." 

Turning  upon  them,  from  the  door,  a  countenance  which 
was  as  good  as  a  prize  essay  on  Cruelty  to  Animals,  the  Deacon 
disappeared  with  Calick. 

They  got  into  the  sleigh  together. 

"  Drive  around  the  pump,"  said  the  Deacon. 

Calick  obeyed. 

"  A  little  faster,"  suggested  the  Deacon,  "  I  want  to  see  his 
paces." 

Calick  spoke  to  the  horse — for  it  needed  but  a  word  from 
him — and  away  they  went.  He  took  great  pride  in  the 
horse,  and  he  watched  the  Deacon  to  see  what  he  thought  of 
him.  The  Deacon  said  nothing ;  but  published  a  new  edition 
of  the  Veterinary  Library. 

"Calick,"  said  the  Deacon,  as  they  neared  his  house, 
"  what 's  in  that  jug  ?" 

"Vinegar,"  said  Calick. 

"  Some  of  Donoe's,  eh  ?" 

5* 


58  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Yes,"  said  Calick. 

"  I  just  got  some  of  Willick's,"  said  the  Deacon.  "  I  won- 
der which  is  the  best." 

"  I  guess  I  '11  just  try  Donoe's,"  continued  he,  taking  up  the 
Captain's  jug. 

The  idea  of  resisting  any  movement  of  the  Deacon's  never 
entered  Calick's  head ;  it  .would  have  been  preposterous. 

Raising  the  jug  to  his  knee,  the  worthy  Deacon  twisted  out 
the  corn-cob  in  the  most  scientific  manner,  and  applied  his 
lips  to  the  mouth  of  the  jug. 

Whether  it  was  because  the  jug  was  only  partially  filled, 
or  on  account  of  the  peculiar  quality  of  the  vinegar,  we,  who 
did  not  enter  the  back-room  of  Gregory  Donoe's  store,  can 
not,  of  course,  say  ;  but  whatever  may  have  been  the  reason, 
the  fact  is  undeniable,  that  the  vessel. was  lifted  slowly  to  a 
most  remarkable  angle,  before  the  taste  of  the  Deacon  seemed 
satisfied. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  he  at  last,  after  a  long  breath,  re- 
placing the  jug  and  rising  to  leave  the  sleigh  at  his  own  door. 
"  Upon  my  word,  that  is  most  remarkable  vinegar." 


V. 

DECEMBEK,   1835. 


CAPTAIN  MAYFER- 
RIE,  walking  briskly 
up  the  hill  toward 
Miss  Provy  Pease's, 
not  long  afterward, 
found  Mother  Nancy 
standing  at  the  front 
door,  watching  for 

the  return  of  Calick,  whom  -she  had  dispatched  in  the  Cap- 
tain's sleigh,  to  bring  the  doctor. 

"'Good  morning,  Mother  Nancy,"  said  the  Captain,  turning 
up  to  the  front  gate. 

"  Good  morning,  Capp'n,"  returned  Mother  Nancy. 
"  And  how,"  said  the  Captain,  coming  up  the  walk,  slapping 
his  hands  together,  "  and  how  are  your  patients  P 

"  The  mother 's  but  poorly,"  replied  the  nurse.  "  Calick's 
just  gone  for  the  doctor,  and  I  was  a  looking  for  him  now. 
Walk  in,  do." 


GO  COKE     CUT    CORNERS. 

The  Captain  complied,  and  they  went  into  the  little  entry. 
It  was  a  peculiarity  of  Aunty  Pease's  little  house,  that  it  did  not 
seem  small  to  the  Captain;  but  it  made  the  Captain  seem 
very  large  to  himself.  He  laid  his  fur  cap  upon  the  table, 
and  the  two  went  into  the  sitting-room.  Captain  Mayferrie 
had  to  stoop  a  little  to  go  through  the  door. 

"  We  thought  you  would  'nt  mind  Calick's  driving  down 
to  the  doctor's,"  said  Mother  Nancy. 

"  I  am  very  glad  the  horse  was  of  service,"  returned  the 
Captain. 

They  stood  together  by  the  blazing  fire,  Mother  Nancy 
warming  her  hands  and  rubbing  them  together,  as  though 
she  were  washing  them  in  warm  air.  Here  too,  they  found 
Aunty  Pease  tending  the  baby,  as  she  had  been  doing  ever 
since  it  was  old  enough  to  be  handled.  She  had  just  dis- 
covered a  new  place  for  a  bandage,  which  she  was  accordingly 
putting  on. 

"  And  this  is  the  new  comer,  is  it  ?"  said  Captain  Mayferrie, 
bending  over  it.  The  baby  spasmodically  opened  its  eyes  for 
an  instant.  It  was  but  for  an  instant ;  yet  it  was  long  enough 
for  Aunty  Pease  to  notice  that  its  eyes  were  the  same  as  the 
Captain's  ;  a  fact  which  she  silently  cut  off,  and  laid  away  to 
be  made  up  at  leisure. 

"  Is  n't  it  a  be — e — uty  ?"  said  she,  holding  up  the  baby 
for  inspection. 

A  fine  baby,  undoubtedly ;  but  still  much  like  all  babies ; 
who  usually  in  their  general  features,  or  rather  in  their  general 
want  of  features,  resemble  much  their  mother  earth  in  her  in- 
fantile state ;  being  without  much  form  and  very  void  in  their 
personal  appearance. 


CONE     CUT     COKNEB8.  61 

"  And  what,"  inquired  Captain  Mayferrie,  "  are  you  going 
to  name  her  ?" 

"  That 's  just  the  question,"  replied  Mother  Nancy.  "  What 
do  you  say,  Captain  ?" 

The  baby,  who  had  been  making  a  dumb  show  of  talking, 
uttered  a  feeble  cry,  but  was  so  astounded  at  the  sound,  that 
it  relapsed  immediately  into  silence. 

"  There 's  Lucinda,"  said  Aunt  Provy.  "  That 's  a  good 
name.  My  grandmother  was  Lucinda.  Lucinda  Green ;  and 
when  she  married  my  grandfather,  they  used  to  laugh  a  great 
deal  about  his  having  green  peas  all  the  year  round.  It  used 
to  be  the  family  joke.  It 's  a  first  rate  name,  and  not  easily 
nicknamed  either.  She  was  a  fine  old  lady — was  grandma 
Cindy.  They  always  used  to  call  her  Cindy,  I  recollect." 

"There's  Sarah,"  said  Mother  Nancy,  "that's  a  good 
name.  'T  ain't  too  long,  neither.  And  it 's  easy  to  spell." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  for  a  last  name  ?"  inquired 
Captain  Mayferrie. 

"  It  might  be  well  for  her  to  follow  her  mother's,"  suggested 
the  nurse,  dryly. 

"What's  that?" 

"  Chesslebury,"  replied  Aunty  Pease. 

"  "Who  told  you  so  ?"  asked  the  Captain  with  some  interest. 

"  Oh !  she  told  me  so,"  replied  Aunt  Provy.  "  Lucretia 
and  I  were  talking  there  this  morning  about  the  Chessleburys, 
when,  as  soon  as  she  heard  me  say  Chesslebury,  she  says, 
'  Chesslebury  ?  Yes,  ma'am.  That 's  my  name.  I  am  ex- 
ceedingly happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,  ma'am.  I  hope 
you  will  do  me  the  favor  of  calling.'  Then  I  asked  her  if  her 
name  was  Chesslebury,  but  she  did  not  understand  me,  I  sup- 


62  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

pose,  for  slie  only  asked  me  if  I  could  direct  her  to  China. 
She  wanted  to  get  a  divining  rod  to  find  her  treasure." 

"  Pooh !"  said  Mother  Nancy,  "  I  don't  believe  she 's  a  Ches- 
slebury." 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Captain  Mayferrie  ;  "  It  is  n't  likely.  The 
name  struck  her  fancy,  that's  all." 

"  No  !"  exclaimed  Aunt  Provy  with  determination,  u  she 's 
a  Chesslebury.  I  know  she  is.  Any  way  I  'm  going  to  call 
her  so." 

"I  shouldn't  think  the  Chessleburys  would  like  it  very 
well,"  suggested  the  Captain. 

"  Like  it  very  well !"  echoed  the  nurse,  "  they  '11  be  whop- 
pin'  mad." 

"  I  can  't  help  that,"  returned  Aunt  Provy  ;  which  was  very 
true.  "  I  think  it 's  a  pity  if  I  can 't  name  my  own  babies  as 
I  want  to.  Well,  you  need  n't  laugh.  She  is  my  baby. 
Ain't  you  ?  you  tinny,  winny,  dinny,  little  ting.  So  it  was. 
And  it  sail  be  a  Sesslebury.  Es,  it  sail." 

The  baby,  by  this  time  recovered  from  her  previous  aston- 
ishment, did  not  receive  this  announcement  with  as  much 
favor  as  was  to  have  been  expected.  It  was  beginning  to  cry 
again.  Aunty  Pease,  famous  for  her  care  of  babies,  clutched 
it  after  the  most  approved  fashion,  and  tossed  it  up  and  down, 
stopping  occasionally  to  kiss  it,  as  though  it  were  like  a 
medicine  which  must  be  well  shaken  before  taken.  She  soon 
succeeded  in  shaking  temporarily  out  of  its  body  what  little 
breath  it  had.  Triumphant  in  her  success,  she  laid  it  down, 
upon  her  lap  again,  to  recover  its  breath  at  its  leisure,  which 
it  did,  with  much  gasping  and  many  faces. 

"  Good  voice,  that." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  63 

This  the  doctor  said,  coming  in,  rubbing  his  hands  and 
stamping  his  feet,  with  Calick  following  closely  behind  him. 

"  I  heard  her  in  the  road  as  plain  as — " 

He  can  think  of  no  adequate  comparison,  and  leaves  the 
sentence  unfinished. 

"Not  so  much  volume  though,"  said  Captain  Mayferrie, 
"as — "  he  was  going  to  say  "as  Mother  Nancy," — but 
checked  himself  just  in  time,  and  said — "  as  she  will  have  one 
of  these  days." 

"  Well,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  "  all  the  volumes  of  her  voice 
are  not  yet  issued." 

"  Why  not  call  her  Sarah  ?"  asked  Mother  Nancy,  "  that 's 
a  good  name." 

"  Oh,  no,  that  won't  do,"  said  Aunt  Provy.  "  It 's  so  easily 
nicknamed.  Beside  it's  too  common.  Now,  there 's  Amanda  ; 
that 's  a  pretty  name,  and  you  can't  nickname  that." 

"  Why,  it 's  as  easy  nicknamed  as  Sarah,"  replied  the 
nurse.  "  She  '11  be  Amy  or  Mandy  wherever  she  goes.  It 's 
worse  than  Sarah,  'cause  it 's  longer." 

"Oh,  no,  that's  different,"  said  Aunt  Provy:  "Those  are 
pet  names ; — that 's  very  different." 

"What's  the  odds  ?"  asked  Mother  Nancy. 

"  Oh,  there 's  a  great  difference,"  said  Aunt  Provy.  "  Pet 

names  are are and  nick-names  are are 

oh,  they  are  very  different — altogether  different." 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  nurse. 

"  Call  her  both,"  suggested  Mr.  Mayferrie  ;  "  Sarah  Aman- 
da Chesslebury.  That  sounds  well, — Sarah  Amanda  Chessle- 
bury." 

"  Good,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that 's  first-rate, — Sarah  Amanda. 


64  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

And  then  the  nickname  will  be  Sal- Amanda.  Capital.  She 
looks  like  a  Salamander  now." 

Captain  Mayfenie  laughed ;  but  Mother  Nancy  and  Aunt 
Provy  looked  indignant. 

"Tell  you  what,"  said  Calick,  breaking  silence;  "Fve  a 
notion.  Make  up  a  name.  Take  the  first  half  of  your  name," 
nodding  toward  the  nurse,  "and  the  last  part  of  youTn," 
nodding  toward  his  aunt.  "  Call  her  Salanda." 

"  Hard  to  spell,"  suggested  Miss  Boggs. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  the  doctor,  opening  a  book  upon  the 
mantle-shelf,  and  writing  it  as  he  spoke :  "  There,"  continued 
he,  holding  it  up  for  inspection,  as  he  put  a  period  to  the 
name.  "  Salanda,  That  looks  well." 

"  It  is  a  handsome  name,"  said  the  Captain,  "  and  it  isn't 
easily  nicknamed  either." 

Aunt  Provy,  proud  of  Calick's  originality,  readily  assented 
to  his  suggestion ;  stipulating,  that  for  a  middle  name,  the 
baby  should  take  her  own ;  and  thus  did  the  little  stranger 
gain  the  unique  appellation  of  Salanda  Pease  Chesslebury. 

The  little  crazy  woman  had  lain  for  the  most  part  quite 
still,  since  the  night  before.  She  talked  incessantly  to  herself, 
and  had  a  restless  desire  to  get  up  and  go  on,  on — somewhere, 
she  knew  not  where — for  some  thing,  she  never  thought  for 
what.  She  minded  very  little  what  passed  about  her.  She 
did  not  notice  whether  it  was  Aunty  Pease  who  came  rustling, 
bustling  in,  but  rustling,  bustling  in  a  whisper ;  or  Mother 
Nancy  who  trod  heavily — on  tiptoe ;  or  Calick,  as  it  once  had 
been  Calick,  whose  boots  would  cry  out  with  pain,  tread 
lightly  as  he  might.  She  liked  nothing  better  than  to  have 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  65 

the  baby  laid  close  by  her  side,  and  she  would  lie  quite  still, 
watching  it  and  talking  to  it  in  an  odd,  rambling  way,  ask- 
ing strange  questions,  and  always  herself  supplying  answers. 
Miss  Lucretia  Oleanda  Blossom  had  come  in  during  the  first 
part  of  the  morning  with  an  orthographical  purpose,  intend- 
ing, as  she  said,  "to  spell  Mother  Nancy;"  and  was  now 
sewing  upon  a  very  diminutive  garment,  while  sitting  by  the 
sick  bed. 

"  Have  you  a  beau,  my  dear  ?"  asks  the  crazy  woman  of 
her,  suddenly  breaking  a  long  silence. 

Miss  Lucretia  Oleanda  Blossom,  bending  over  her  sewing,  ex- 
amines with  great  particularity  her  stitches,  but  makes  no  reply. 

Nor  does  she  have  much  opportunity  to  do  so,  for  the  crazy 
woman,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  continues : 

"A  rainbow,  I  mean.  I  am  told  that  there's  always  a 
treasure  to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  rainbow.  I  think  it 
must  be  mine.  Let  me  think  ;  who  was  it  ?  Oh  !  the  Em- 
peror of  all  the  Chinas  told  me  so  last  night.  And  I  would 
advise  you,  my  dear,  to  get  the  China  ware ;  it  is  the  best ; — 
when  you  go  to  housekeeping.  I  promised  him  I  would  rec- 
ommend his  wares  last  night.  I  think  we  shall  have  rain 
soon,  too.  It  seems  misty,  I  think ;  very  misty." 

She  raises  her  head  a  little,  as  though  to  look  through  a 
misty  atmosphere ;  but  soon  lies  down  again. 

The  fire  gives  a  little  snap. 

"  What !  more  champagne.  Really  this  is  too  much,  Em- 
peror. No  more,  I  thank  you.  No  more  for  me.  My  head 
is  n't  very  strong.  Not  so  strong  as  it  used  to  be.  Indeed, 
I  sometimes  think  it  is  very  weak — very  weak." 

This  last  is  spoken  in  a  sad  manner,  in  strange  contrast 


66  CONK     CUT     CORNER  8. 

with  the  smirking  expression  with  which  she  had  said  the 
rest.  After  this  she  complains  much,  sometimes  that  it  is 
misty,  sometimes  that  her  head  is  weak  or  aches,  and  once 
she  imagines  that  she  is  an  unfortunate  "fly  caught  in  a  spider's 
web,  which  she  often  tries  to  brush  from  off  her  face.  From 
such  complaints  her  wandering  mind  is  first  attracted  by  the 
doctor  drawing  a  chair  up  by  the  bedside,  and  asking  her 
gently  how  she  does  this  morning. 

"  Well !  very  well,  I  thank  you,  sir,"  she  replies,  turning 
her  twinkling,  rolling  eyes  toward  his,  "  I  never  felt  better,  I 
believe ;  except  my  head.  It  aches.  I  think  the  waters  were 
very  beneficial  to  me.  Do  you  drink  the  waters  ?" 

After  a  short  pause  she  continues  : 

"  Water  did  you  say  ?  Oh,  yes  !  I  came  across  the  water. 
I  'm  a  pilgrim  father.  Oh,  yes !  I  'm  a  pilgrim  father.  I 
came  across  in  the — May — Mayfeny." 

They  draw  near  around  her  bedside  ;  Aunt  Provy,  Mother 
Nancy,  Lucretia  Oleanda.  The  Captain,  in  the  room  outside, 
hearing  his  name  pronounced,  steps  to  the  door  which  has 
been  left  ajar,  and  looks  through  the  crack.  And  Calick, 
from  contemplation  of  the  fire,  looks  up  wondering. 

"  What 's  that  ?"  asks  he. 

"  ITsh  !  h'sh  !"  says  the  Captain,  raising  his  hand. 

Calick,  from  leaning  back  on  the  hind  legs  of  his  chair, 
comes  down  suddenly,  and  not  noiselessly,  upon  all  four.  He 
then  leans  forward,  his  head  in  his  hands  and  his  elbows  upon 


"  Oh,  yes  !"  she  repeats ;  "  in  the  Mayferry.  And  seems  to 
me  it  was  there  I  lost  my  heart,  somehow.  Dear  me,  this 
cobweb  troubles  me."  She  passes  her  hand  over  her  face  as 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  67 

i- 

if  to  brush  it  off.  "  Let  me  think.  I  can  not  seem  to  recol- 
lect exactly." 

The  doctor  takes  her  hand  to  feel  her  pulse ;-  then  strokes 
it  thoughtfully  between  his. 

"  Well,  doctor  ?"  says  Aunt  Provy,  anxiously. 

The  doctor  shakes  his  head  oracularly,  as  doctors  some- 
times will.  It  may  mean,  "  Not  as  bad  as  I  thought ;"  or  it 
may  mean,  "  Hopeless  case ;"  or  it  may  merely  mean,  doubt 
and  anxiety. 

"  But  he  has  given  me  back  my  heart,"  says  the  crazy  wo- 
man ;  "  he  sent  it  back  last  night.  See  !" 

The  doctor's  eyes  follow  hers.  Both  rest  upon  the  little 
messenger  who  brought  it  then ; — who  still  keeps  it. 

The  doctor  takes  her  hand  in  his  again,  to  feel  her  pulse. 
This  time  he  holds  his  watch  in  the  other  hand,  and  compares 
together  these  two  time-pieces.  Then  he  knows  that  one  is 
running  down — fast  running  down. 

His  patient  watches  him  with  interest,  while  he  holds  her 
hand  in  his  ;  and  when  he  drops  it,  and  puts  back  his  watch, 
she  draws  a  long  breath,  and  says : 

"  Please,  was  the  Emperor  of  China  here  last  night  T' 

"  No !"  says  the  doctor. 

"  Nor  the  angel  Gabriel  V 

"  No." 

"  It  is  misty — very  misty." 

There  is  a  short  pause. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  she  continues,  pressing  her  head  with 
both  her  hands.  "  I  think  I  have  been  dreaming.  A  strange 
dream  it  was,  but — oh  dear,  this  cobweb.  Bring  me  my 
baby,  please." 


68  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

-» 

Aunt  Provy  brings  it,  and  lays  it  by  her  side.  She  takes 
its  tiny  hand  in  hers. 

"  Good-by,  little  one,  I  shall  not  be  long  gone.  Doctor,  let 
me  have  your  bill,  please.  I  will  pay  it  when  I  find  nay  treas- 
ure. I  am  going  for  it  now." 

Calick  now  standing  by  the  Captain's  side,  wonders  to  see 
how  pale  he  has  become,  and  how  he  leans  against  the  wall  as 
for  support. 

"  Good-by  all,"  says  the  little  woman.  She  attempts  to 
wave  her  hand  to  them.  It  falls  feebly  by  her  side. 

The  time-piece  is  running  down — fast  running  down. 

"  It  is  quite  clear  now,"  she  says,  "  there  is  my  treasure.  I 
see  it.  Golden  harps." 

Calick,  leaning  forward,  rests  his  hand  upon  the  door.  It 
yields  to  his  pressure  with  a  gentle  creaking.  The  rolling, 
twinkling  eyes  turn  toward  the  sound. 

"JOHN!" 

It  rings  through  the  room,  bringing  the  doctor  to  his  feet 
with  a  start.  The  little  woman  raises  herself  erect  in  bed, 
stretching  her  arms  out  toward  the  door.  And  so  she  sits. 
The  rolling,  twinkling  eyes  grow  still.  The  trembling  arms 
drop  slowly  by  her  side.  The  time-piece,  with  a  rattle,  runs 
down  never  to  be  wound  up  again  ;  and  a  stray  beam  of  the 
sun,  creeping  through  the  folds  of  the  darkening  curtain,  il- 
lumines with  a  heavenly  light,  that  face  which  earthly  joys 
had  long  since  ceased  to  brighten. 


VI. 

JANUABY   AND  JUNE,   1836. 


ELDER  GEAYNES  was 
one  of  those  pastors  who 
do  not  wait  to  be  sum- 
moned of  affliction  or 
trouble,  but  always  seem 

to  be  found  where  they  are  needed  Avithout  being  sent  for. 
And  so  it  happened  that  on  the  very  afternoon  of  the  day  of 
the  poor  wanderer's  death,  he  walked  gently  into  Aunt  Provy's 
house.  Aunt  Provy  was  not  at  all  surprised  to  see  him,  be- 
cause she  never  knew  of  his  being  wanted,  when  he  did  not 
sooner  or  later  come,  having  caught  a  whisper,  or  heard  an 
echo,  or  guessed  a  cause  of  trouble  which  required  his 
presence. 

There  are  some  hearts  that  are  always  shut  up  ;  locked  and 
bolted  all  the  tune,  like  houses  in  the  night,  Nothing  can 
enter  at  the  front  door,  it  is  barred.  Nothing  can  break  in  at 
the  front  windows,  the  blinds  are  closed,  the  sashes  latched, 
the  shutters  within  close  fastened.  Nothing  on  the  roof;  the 


70  CONECUT^fcORNERS. 

skylight  is  padlocked  on  the  inside.  But  passing  by  all 
ordinary  approaches  and  all  anticipated  places  of  entrance, 
there  may  perchance  be  found  in  some  out  of  the  -way  corner, 
an  unfastened  side-light  which  will  admit  the  hand  to  turn 
a  key. 

So  it  had  been  with  the  little  seamstress.  She  had  lived  all 
her  life  with  an  empty,  close-shut  heart.  All  ordinary  ap- 
proaches failed  to  touch  her  feelings  and  awaken  her  thoughts 
to  any  deep  and  permanent  purposes.  She  had  lost  her 
mother, — wept,  and  that  was  all.  Her  father, — wept  again, 
mourned  with  her  brother  that  they  were  left  alone  with  no 
relative  in  the  world,  and  then  forgot  her  grief  without 
learning  its  interpretation  and  its  lesson.  Happiness  came 
over  her  like  sunshine,  and  still  the  windows  of  her  heart 
were  not  opened.  She  liked  her  nephew  Calick.  She 
could  not  help  liking  him,  although  he  gently  crossed  her 
wishes  sometimes ;  but  she  had  never  found  any  body  else  of 
all  her  friends  on  earth  to  love,  and  beyond  the  earth,  she 
hitherto  had  had  no  thought. 

But  now  it  seemed  as  if  the  circumstances  of  that  night 
and  morning,  though  they  were  unconnected  with  her  own 
welfare,  and  did  not  address  themselves  to  her  as  personal 
griefs,  had  yet,  in  some  loop-hole,  found  an  entrance  and 
gained  access. 

It  was  with  soberness  and  in  silence  that  she  conducted 
the  Elder  into  the  dark  front  room  where  the  mother  lay ; 
and  with  tears,  with  strange  tears,  that  she  showed  him  after- 
ward, in  the  other  room,  the  little  babe. 

Elder  Graynes  assumed  the  burden  of  the  funeral,  which 
was  very  simple  and  quiet.  And  thereafter  Aunt  Provy,  not 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  7l 

without  countenance  and  assistance  from  Mrs.  Graynes,  took 
upon  herself  the  care  of  the  infant  who  had  been  cast  thus 
suddenly  upon  the  world.  What  with  sober  thoughts  newly 
up-springing  in  her  mind,  what  with  her  usual  cares  and  daily 
employments,  and  what  with  the  attentions  required  by  her 
little  charge,  which  were  of  a  nature  involving  cares  that,  to 
an  elderly  maiden  lady,  are  undoubtedly  as  perplexing  as 
novel,  Aunt  Provy  found  the  hours  of  her  day  well  filled. 

But  not  in  all  these  occupations  was  her  curiosity  drowned. 
She  spent  more  strength  than  ever  upon  Captain  Mayferrie's 
case,  and  evolved  more  theories  upon  his  origin,  cause,  pro- 
gress and  destiny,  than  would  have  sufficed  to  account  for  the 
existence  of  several  hundred  Salandas.  She  made  diligent 
research  into  the  two  great  problems — where  did  Captain 
Mayferrie  come  from  ? — and,  who  was  Salanda's  mother  2 
These  problems  she  daily  cyphered  upon  the  slate  of  imagi- 
nation, but  failed  to  accomplish  their  solution.  Every  morn- 
ing she  commenced  the  work  afresh,  and  filled  the  day  with 
calculations  in  which  one  problem  always  ran  into  the  other, 
and  the  other  returned  to  seek  its  answer  in  the  first.  Nor 
did  she  find  relief  from  her  daily  recurring  perplexity,  until 
the  sponge  of  sleep  wiped  out  the  figures,  and  left  the  tablets 
clear  for  the  calculations  of  another  day. 

All  this  however,  was  at  home,  and  amid  the  freshness  of 
her  novel  household  cares.  A  storm  which  prevailed  for 
some  days  after  the  funeral  of  Salanda's  mother,  prevented 
the  working  of  the  telegraph,  and  communication  with  the 
world  abroad,  was,  to  a  great  extent,  suspended  by  Aunt 
Provy.  She  however  sent  several  messages  to  the  Captain, 

by  word  of  Calick,  but  the  only  answer  Calick  got,  was  an 

. 


72  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

inquiry  upon  the  part  of  the  Captain,  of  how  the  infant  was 
doing,  and  Calick  became  discouraged,  and  resolved  to  carry 
no  more. 

At  last,  however,  a  fine  morning  came ;  the  murkiness  of 
earth  gave  way  to  the  brilliancy  of  heaven,  and  the  sun  wrote 
in  golden  letters  across  the  white  landscape,  a  reflection  which 
care-worn  and  over-anxious  men  would  do  well  to  bear  in 
mind.  Earth  might  have  eternal  sunshine,  if  it  were  not  for 
the  clouds  of  its  own  gathering.  The  air  was  very  keen  and 
cold,  but  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  chilly  air  of  a  clear 
winter's  day,  to  keep  Aunt  Provy  in  the  house.  Although 
sensitive  to  storms,  she  was  impervious  to  cold.  So  she  re- 
solved to  seize  upon  this  first  opportunity  for  a  visit  to  the 
Captain. 

In  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  therefore,  she  dressed  herself 
for  a  winter's  walk ;  putting  on — strangest  of  women — a  pair 
of  stout  bootees,  and  over  these  a  pair  of  Calick's  thickest 
woolen  stockings  ;  and  robing  herself  warmly  in  cloak,  hood, 
veil,  shawls,  mittens  and  mufflers.  Thus  appareled,  and  con- 
fiding the  baby  to  the  temporary  care  of  Miss  Lucretia  Oleanda 
Blossom,  she  sallied  forth.  If  she  looked  cold,  it  was  only  as 
does  the  quicksilver  in  the  thermometer;  by  shrinking  into 
the  smallest  possible  compass,  and  looking  brighter  than  ever 
there. 

It  was  a  bleak  walk  up  that  long  hill. 

Aunt  Provy  reached  her  destination  and  entered  the  house, 
according  to  custom,  by  the  back-door,  and  without  the  cere- 
mony of  numbing  her  cold  knuckles  with  a  knock. 

She  found  the  Captain  and  Calick  in  the  great  kitchen 
shelling  corn.  The  Captain  seemed  to  anticipate  a  com  er.-a- 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  73 

tion,  for  he  rose,  suspended  his  work,  and  invited  Aunt  Provy 
to  a  seat  on  the  settle.  He  took  no  seat  himself. 

"Cold  day,"  said  the  Captain. 

Miss  Provy  seated  herself,  but  did  not  immediately  speak. 
She  had  lost  her  breath  on  the  hill,  and  sat  waiting  for  it  to 
overtake  her.  At  last  it  came,  and  she  said, — 

"  Yes." 

Then  she  fell  to  gazing  at  the  fire,  with  occasional  glances 
at  the  Captain.  Calick,  under  pretence  of  carrying  away  the 
basket  of  cobs,  was  about  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Don't  go,  Calick,"  interposed  the  Captain,  quietly. 

Aunt  Provy  was  perhaps  never  before  afraid  of  any 
thing, — except  spiders ;  such  as  took  her  by  surprise  from 
unexpected  ambuscades.  Now,  however,  she  began  to  think 
she  had  better  let  the  Captain  alone.  But  in  silence  she 
gained  courage. 

"  You  have  n't  been  down  to  see  the  baby  again  ?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  We  thought  to  be  sure  you  would  come  down  to  the 
funeral,"  said  Aunt  Provy. 

"  Well,  no,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  don't  enjoy  funerals." 

Aunt  Provy  continued,  without  noticing  the  interruption. 

"  To  the  funeral  of  your  own — " 

"Don't  call  her  mine,"  interrupted  the  Captain.  "I've 
claimed  no  one." 

"  So  much  the  worse,"  retorted  she.  "  It 's  little  excuse  to 
say  you  don't  claim  her.  That 's  the  very  thing.  Why  don't 
you  ?  Come  now,  Mr.  Mayferrie,  was  n't  she  your — " 

"  She  's  none  of  mine,"  interposed  he.     "  I  don't  own  her." 

"Oh — h — h,   Cap'u  Mayferrie,"   cried  Aunt  Provy,  lifting 


7.4  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

her  hands  in  determined  astonishment.  "  If  your  own  flesli 
and  blood  don't  belong  to  you,  whose  are  they  ?" 

"  Miss  Pease,"  said  the  gentlemanly  man,  quite  unmoved 
externally  by  her  appeal,  "  you  have  called  me  Captain.  It 
was  the  first  time  I  enjoyed  the  honor,  but  I  made  no  objec- 
tions. You  now  would  give  me  a  more  domestic  title.  It  is 
nothing  to  me.  No  more  in  the  one  case  than  in  the  other. 
I'have  nothing  to  say.  Please  go  on." 

Aunt  Provy  looked  at  the  fire,  and  secretly  wished  the  Cap- 
tain was  not  so  polite.  If  she  could  find  the  slightest  rent  of 
ill-temper  in  his  guise,  she  could  speedily  tear  off  the  whole 
robe. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  after  a  short  pause,  "  well  so  far  so 
good.  You  don't  deny 'it.  Now  your  poor  little  daughter  is 
left  alone.  Nobody  but  such  as  me  to  care  for  her.  She 's  a 
half  orphan  now.  Are  you  going  to  stand  off  this  way  and 
double  it  1  Oh  !  how  can  you  ?'* 

"  I  tell  you  now,"  said  he,  earnestly; "  that  of  all  your  quick 
head  can  think  of  to  say,  and  all  your  quicker  tongue  can  say 
without  thinking  of  it,  I  shall  deny  nothing.  It  will  be  time 
enough  to  deny  when  a  charge  of  something  is  made.  But, 
all  the  stories  you  heap  up  over  me,  the  better  my  conceal- 
ment is.  I  speak  frankly.  The  more  there  are,  the  better  my 
purpose  is  served.  Go  on,  please." 

"  Cap'n  Mayferrie,"  returned  the  little  lady,  "  it's  time  to 
deny  it  now.  I  charge  you  with  it,"  cried  she,  pointing  at 
him.  "  You  know  you  have.  I  charge  you  now." 

With  an  unconscious  suiting  of  the  action  to  the  word,  she 
started  from  the  seat,  and  with  her  finger  outstretched  like  a 
bayonet,  she  charged  upon  the  Captain. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  75 

"  You  Vo  deserted  your  wife.  She  came  after  you,  and  you 
disown  her.  She  dies,  and  you  won't  speak  to  her.  She  's 
buried,  and  you  won't  go  near  her.  And  you  're  a  great,  hard- 
hearted, unnatural  man.  You  did  it.  I  know  't  was  so. 
There  's  one  thing,  you  shan't  have  the  baby.  I  'm  glad  you 
disown  it.  You  don't  deserve  it.  There 's  only  one  thing 
that  makes  me  think  it  don't  belong  to  you,  and  that  is,  that 
it 's  a  cherub,  which  you  ain't." 

"  Miss  Pease,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  feel  an  interest  in  that 
child." 

"  Oh,  you  do,  do  you  ?"  cried  she.  "  So  you  're  a-coming 
to  your  senses,  are  you  ?" 

"And  I  intend  that  she  shall  be  well  provided  for,"  con- 
tinued he,  disregarding  the  interruption.  "  Some  time  when 
you  recover  your  usual  quietness  and  good  sense,  I  shall  be 
happy  to  talk  with  you." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  quiet !  I  'm  quiet  now,"  cried  the  little  old  lady, 
with  the  calmness  of  a  small  hurricane,  and  marching  up  and 
down  the  room  in  a  quickstep  of  excitement.  "  I  'm  quiet. 
I  'm  quiet." 

The  Captain  walked  back  and  forth  at  the  other  side  of 
the  room,  and  was  silent  for  a  few  moments.  Aunt  Provy 
bustled  back  and  forth,  repeating  that  she  was  quiet.  She 
beat  the  Captain  at  every  turn,  and  made  three  trips  to  his 
two.  The  Captain  spoke. 

"  Listen,  Calick." 

Calick,  who  was  already  all  wide-mouthed  attention,  leaned 
forward  and  put  his  hand  to  his  ear  as  if  he  had  been  deaf. 

"  She  was  happy,"  commenced  the  Captain,  "  and  so  was 
her  husband.  She  had  every  thing  to  make  her  happv  tluit 


76  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

she  could  have,  I  suppose.  She  had  every  luxury,  but  that 
was  not  enough  for  her.  She  took  to  drinking.  First,  fash- 
ionably ;  finally,  like  a  brute.  I  broke  her  of  it  once.  By 
force.  I  made  her  give  it  up.  She  did  not  dare  give  way  to 
it  then,  with  me.  But  once,  when  I  was  out  of  town,  she 
broke  her  word  and  my  commands,  and  I  found  her  stupidly 
besotted.  You  don't  know  what  she  was.  She  was  an  ele- 
g'ant,  educated,  accomplished,  brilliant,  beautiful  woman.  She 
became  a  senseless  idiot.  I  forswore  her.  She  went  crazy. 
She  was  despised  by  those  on  the  same  road,  and  going  after 
her.  I  was  pointed  at.  Four  months  after  she  broke  her 
solemn  pledge  to  me,  she  was  raving  mad  in  the  asylum.  I 
had  her  cared  for  by  others.  I  swore  I  would  never  own  her 
nor  claim  her  disgrace"  as  nine.  I  never  will.  'T  will  be 
enough  if  she  drags  me  after  her." 

Here  a  pause.  The  Captain  was  walking  faster  now.  He 
strode  heavily  over  the  floor.  Aunt  Provy  stood  gazing  at 
him. 

"The  child  is  her  daughter,"  said  he,  more  calmly  now 
again.  "  I  shall  provide  for  it  in  a  proper  way,  but  I  '11  never 
own  it  for  mine.  I  have  n't  left  my  home,  and  all  to  which 
I  belonged,  and  set  myself  down  here  out  of  the  way,  to  be 
hunted  out  and  taxed  with  her  abominably  evil  ways.  The 
child  's  hers.  She  may  turn  out  worthy  of  her  mother.  I  '11 
not  own  her.  She  shan't  want  for  any  thing  reasonable  but 
parents,  but  that  I  won't  be.  I  '11  have  no  more  of  her  or 
hers." 

"  Now,  you  understand  the  story.  I  Ve  only  two  courses. 
I  shall  take  just  which  you  like.  You  love  the  child,  I  see.  I 
am  glad.  I  shall  support  her  and  provide  well  fur  her.  I  will 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  77 

pay  well  for  your  trouble.  And  you  shall  tell  any  story  about 
her  except  the  true  one ;  or  none  at  all,  and  that 's  better  still. 
I  lore  the  child,  and  that  's  the  reason  I  '11  not  have  her. 
There  's  been  one  woman  ruined  in  my  house  already.  If  you 
will  be  a  mother  to  her  I  am  thankful.  That 's  one  course. 
If,  however,  you  say  a  word  about  what  I  've  told  you,  I  shall 
take  the  child  from  you  and  go.  You  may  do  which  you 
like.  It  makes  no  difference  to  me.  Speak  of  it  if  you  pre- 
fer, but  the  day  you  speak  I  shall  hear,  and  the  day  I  hear  I 
shall  go — with  her." 

Upon  this  basis  Aunt  Provy  finally  decided  to  accept  the 
charge  of  the  infant.  And,  in  company  of  Calick,  she  has- 
tened home  to  relieve  Lucretia  Oleanda. 

"  Mind,  Calick,"  said  the  Captain,  as  they  were  going  out. 
"  You  understand.  I  know  your  aunt's  ways,  and  I  do  n't 
believe  she  can  help  telling  all  she  knows,  and  more,  for  the 
matter  of  that.  I  'm  quite  indifferent  as  to  what  she  says,  but 
you  understand  that  I  shall  not  stop  here  to  hear  any  of  her 
gossip  circulate.  I  shall  not — and  the  child  shall  not." 

Aunt  Provy  winced  under  this  cut,  but  she  bit  her  tongue 
and  kept  it  still. 

"  And  if  the  child  lives,  you  are  to  say  nothing  to  her  of  it. 
She  shall  not  be  burdened  with  her  mother's  disgrace.  What- 
ever she  is  to  know,  I  will  tell  her  myself  when  the  time 
comes." 

With  this  further  admonition,  Captain  Mayferrie  bowed 
them  out,  in  his  own  gentlemanly  manner,  and  they  directed 
their  steps  toward  the  village. 

"  La,  me,"  cried  Aunty  Pease,  "  what  a  man  !  I  never  saw 
such  a  one.  To  think  of  his  tellino-  such  stories  about  that 


78  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

poor,  dear,  crazy  woman.  She  could  n't  be  such  a  bad  -wo- 
man, for  she  was  so  good,  and  so  intelligent  too,  though  she 
was  a  little  wandering  in  her  mind." 

"But  Aunt,"  said  Calick,  "what  shall  you  say  about  the 
little  child  V 

"  Oh !  I  shan't  say  a  word.  I  '11  let  the  Capp'n  see  that  I 
can  keep  a  secret  as  well  as  any  body.  I  '11  go  right  down 
this  very  moment  and  see  Mrs.  Ficksom  about  it." 

"  That 's  a  good  beginnin',"  said  Calick.  "  If  the  greatness 
of  a  secret  goes  by  the  number  of  people  there  are  in  it, 
it  '11  be  the  biggest  kind  of  a  secret  afore  Sunday,  for  all  the 
town  '11  be  in  it." 

"  Good  gracious !  Calick,  how  can  you  talk  so  1  You  know 
I  was  n't  going  to  tell  every  body.  But  Mrs.  Ficksom  ought 
to  know.  She  's  the  Deacon's  wife,  and  she  's  taken  a  deal  of 
interest  in  Capp'n  Mayfenie,  for  she  said  to  me  one  night  at 
the  sewin'  circle,  says  she,  'I  think  that  somebody  ought  to 
look  after  that  Mr.  Mayferrie,'  says  she, '  because,'  says  she, '  we 
don't  know  any  thing  about  his  private  affairs,'  and  says  she, 
'  our  girl  Deborah  was  up  there  at  Squire  Blankes's,  and  she 
said  that  Maldie — that 's  Squire  Blankes's  girl — said  that 
Martha  told  her  how  the  Captain  drank;  and  she  said  just 
how  many  times  he  filled  his  demijohn  in  a  week,' — I  think  it 
was  in  a  week, — and  Mrs.  Ficksom  says  to  me  that  some 
body  must  take  the  lead  in  this  thing  and  find  out,  '  because,' 
says  she,  '  if  the  man  drinks  all  the  time,  of  course  he  can't 
work ;  and  then  where  does  his  money  come  from.'  Yes,  Mrs. 
Ficksom  is  very  much  interested  in  him  ;  and  I  think  she  'd 
ought  to  know." 

"And  Mrs.  Groynes?"  suggested  Calick,  inquiringly. 


COKE     CUT     CORNERS.  79 

*'  Why — yes — I  suppose  she  ought  to  know.  Yes,  oh,  yes  ! 
of  course  the  minister's  wife  ought  to  know.  She 's  very 
much  interested  in  him.  Not  so  much  in  him  as  Mrs.  Fick- 
som  is,  because  Mrs.  Ficksom  said  she  was.  Says  she,  '  Oh, 
I  do  want  to  know  all  about  him.'  But  Mrs.  Graynes  ought 
to  know,  because  she  's  very  much  interested  about  the  baby. 
Yes,  I  think  I  ought  to  tell  her." 

"  And  Lucretia  Oleanda  T  said  Calick 

*"  Why,  Lucretia  was  really  very  kind,  and  she  helped 
me  so  much,  and  then  she  heard  all  that  the  poor  mother 
said.  Yes,  I  think  she  ought  to  know.  I  ought  to  tell 
her." 

"  Well,"  said  Calick,  "I'm  glad  to  understand,  for  I '11  tell 
Captain  Mayferrie  to-night  to  take  the  child,  poor  thing." 

"  Why,  Calick  !  la  me  !  you  talk  just  as  if  I  was  a-going  to 
let  out  &e  secret.  No  such  a  thing.  But  don't  you  think 
Mrs.  Ficksom  has  a  right  to  know  about  it  1" 

If  Aunty  Pease  had  an  interest  in  the  baby,  Calick  was  con- 
cerned for  the  Captain.  There  were  those  elements  of  nobility 
in  the  stranger's  character  which  took  hold  strongly  on  Ca- 
lick's  simple-hearted  affection,  and  he  had  seen  indications  of 
danger  in  the  gradual  approaches  of  intemperance,  that  ap- 
pealed to  his  compassion,  and  made  him  resolve  to  do  what  ho 
could,  in  a  humble  way,  to  save  the  Captain.  Under  this 
hope  he  said  to  his  aunt, — 

"  I  think  we  may  do  both  of  'em  a  very  good  turn,  if  we  're 
good  friends.  The  poor  man  has  seen  trouble,  and  he  's  down- 
hearted and  'most  desperate.  As  for  the  baby,  she  's  got  no- 
thin'  but  a  name,  and  we  don't  know  as  that  belongs  to  her. 
If  they  go  off  from  here,  there  's  no  knowin'  what  '11  become 


80  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

of  'etn.  As  for  these  women  folks,  if  you  think  they  ought  to 
know,  why  tell  'em.  Only  I  shall  tell  the  Capp'n." 

Aunt  Provy  seemed  quite  undecided  as  to  her  duties  to  the 
friends  of  Mr.  Mayferrie  in  the  village,  and  very  unusually,  was 
silent  for  the  space  of  full  fifteen  minutes,  at  which  period  she 
reached  her  home.  Here,  on  seeing  the  baby,  which  had  grown 
measurably,  as  she  declared,  since  morning,  she  nearly  smoth- 
ered it  with  hugging,  and  said  to  Calick,  "  If  you  ever  catch  me 
saying  a  word  about  the  story  to  any  body — you  '11  know  it." 

Calick  thought  so  too.  And  to  make  the  more  sure,  he 
thereafter  paid  more  attention  to  the  talk  of  the  women  folks 
than  ever  before  he  could  have  deemed  possible. 

It  was  not  enough,  however,  that  Aunt  Provy  should  say 
nothing.  Informatioa  of  the  arrival  of  a  mysterious  little 
stranger  being  speedily  noised  abroad  in  the  town,  and  the 
wags  of  the  village  wittily  circulating  the  news  in  the  jocular 
remark  that  "  Aunt  Pease  had  got  a  baby,"  the  story  of  events 
connected  with  Salanda's  birth,  gained  extensive  circulation. 
Many  editions  of  the  tale,  enlarged  and  improved,  with  notes, 
introductions,  appendices,  and  promises  of  sequels,  were 
brought  out  in  the  village,  and  Salanda  was  made  the  heroine 
of  a  great  many  romances  before  she  was  a  mouth  old. 

But  as  the  gossip  received  no  stimulus  from  the  conversa- 
tion of  Aunt  Provy,  and  as  the  gentlemanly  man  showed  him- 
self entirely  indifferent  to  the  whole  discussion,  it  gradually 
died  out,  and  gave  place,  in  course  of  time,  to  other  inquiries 
upon  subjects  equally  important  in  their  day  and  generation. 

One  pleasant  morning  in  the  next  summer,  when  earth  had 
put  off  her  winter  cloak,  and  assumed  the  gay  garment  of  green 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  81 

again,  Mr.  Mayferrie  and  Calick,  on  their  way  down  the 
hill  from  the  farm  to  the  village,  were  passing  the  burying 
ground. 

"  Calick,"  said  the  Captain,  "  there  ought  to  be  a  grave 
stone." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  responded  Calick. 

The  Captain  stopped,  and  leaned  against  the  wall. 

"  Yes,  Calick,  there  ought  to  be  a  grave  stone,  or  the  poor 
child  will  never  know  even  so  much  as  where  the  dust  of  her 
mother  lie^>." 

"  I  would  set  one,"  said  Calick,  speaking  gently,  after  some 
silence,  "  if  I  knew  what  you  would  have  on  it." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  you  do  it,"  replied  the  Captain.  "  A 
plain  stone  without  inscription,  will  mark  the  spot.  It  is 
better  than  nothing." 

And  so  the  stone  was  set. 

By  midnight  moonlight,  a  tall,  manly  form  came  slowly 
down  the  hill,  and,  passing  the  meeting-house,  entered  the 
burying-ground  by  the  arched  gateway.  He  looked  carefully 
about  him,  but  seeing  no  one,  he  rapidly  approached  the 
newly  turfed  mound,  and  stooped,  uncovered,  at  the  marble 
stone.  Its  pale  white  face  shone  mournfully  upon  him  in  the 
moonlight. 

With  a  ready  pencil  he  sketched,  and  with  a  dexterous 
chisel  he  lightly  cut  upon  the  stone  the  one  word  : 

MOTHER. 

It  was  a  task  of  some  time,  and  somewhat  rudely  done  at 
that.  lie  lingered  over  the  word  too,  touching  and  retouch- 


82  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

ing  here  and  there.  At  last  he  laid  aside  his  tools,  and  wiped 
his  brow. 

"  Oh !  oh !"  sighed  he.  "  It  could  never  mean  any  thing 
to  anybody  else ;  and  this  is  all  that  it  can  say  even  to  her, 
poor  child  I" 

And  then  he  went  away. 


VII. 

MARCH,    1843. 


TIME  with  his  scythe 
had  mown  the  hair  from 
Elder  Graynes'  "forehead, 
and  made  a  place  there 
to  plant  a  wig,  although 
no  wig  had  as  yet  been 
planted. 

The   same   industrious 

farmer  had  plowed  deeper  furrows  in  the  Deacon's  face, 
and  brought  its  capacities  of  varied  expression  into  a  higher 
state  of  cultivation  than  ever  before. 

He  had,  in  leisure  moments,  carved  the  lineaments  of 
Calick's  countenance  into  the  expression  of  maturity.  He 
had  made  many  other  changes  in  Cone  Cut  Corners  also, 
more  or  less  noticeable  and  important.  He  passed  his  hand 
very  lightly  over  Aunt  Provy,  to  be  sure,  bringing  her  only  a 
pair  of  silver  spectacles,  which  she  rarely  found  need  to  use ; 
but  then,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  magnified  Salanda 
through  all  the  sizes  of 'infancy  and  childhood,  and  now  adding 
up  the  years  of  her  life,  he  computed  her  to  be  seven  years  old. 


84  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Time,  in  making  these  changes,  did  not  pass  by,  untouched, 
the  gentlemanly  man. 

Captain  Mayferrie  was  no  longer  a  young  man.  He  no 
longer  went  to  meeting  with  jet  black  boots.  He  no  longer 
frequented  the  society  of  the  village — except  those  circles 
which  gathered  in  Gregory  Donoe's  store.  The  ambitions  of 
men  change  with  their  ages.  Captain  Mayferrie  now  no 
longer  plumed  himself  upon  the  hay  crop,  nor  prided  himself 
upon  his  seed-corn.  He  thought  less  of  his  oxen  now,  and 
more  of  his  horses.  He  cared  little  for  his  ax,  but  a  good 
deal  for  his  fishing-pole.  He  had  built  him  a  new  cider-mill, 
and  his  orchard  was  now  esteemed  by  him,  more  according  to 
the  quantity  of  its  products,  than  their  quality. 

In  short,  Captain  Mayferrie  had  passed  that  time  of  his  life 
when  respectability  was  his  most  cherished  luxury. 

Time,  who  had  quieted  the  inquiries,  and  speculations,  and 
gossipings,  which  sprang  up  upon  the  occasion  of  Salanda's 
birth,  thought  fit  to  raise  them  to  life  again ;  and  to  do  it 
through  the  instrumentality  of  Mrs.  Gregory  Donoe. 

Gregory  Donoe,  the  Captain's  friend,  was  a  man  very  well 
to  do  in  the  world,  as  we  have  already  had  reason  to  judge. 
He  was  prosperous,  and,  after  the  manner  of  men,  happy. 
He  had  nevertheless  one  affliction — he  was  about  to  lose  his 
wife.  It  is  not  often  that  a  husband  can  obtain  definite  and 
reliable  information  of  the  exact  date  of  his  approaching  • 
widowerhood ;  but  Mrs.  Donoe  had  marked  with  an  ink-blot 
in  her  husband's  almanac,  the  twenty-third  of  April,  as  the 
day  of  her  undoubted  departure  from  this  earthly  scene,  and 
was  arranging  her  family  affairs  with  a  view  to  a  public 
ascension  upon  that  day. 

' 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  So 

In  other  words,  Mrs.  Gregory  Donoe  was  a  confirmed 
Millerite ; — a  believer  in  that  faith  which  was  then  somewhat 
prevalent  in  New  England,  and  which,  by  a  careful  casting 
up  of  the  accounts  of  the  prophecies,  demonstrated  the  certain 
destruction  of  this  globe  upon  the  23d  of  April,  1843. 

As  the  spring  of  that  fated  year  advanced,  Mrs.  Donoe 
began  to  be  less  and  less  interested  in  such  sublunary  affairs 
as  breakfasts  and  dinners,  parlors  and  bedrooms,  furniture  and 
clothing,  gu«sts,  customers  and  charges,  until  it  really  seemed 
as  if  she  were  indeed  about  to  give  up  the  business  of  living 
altogether.  As  the  month  of  April  drew  near,  she  grew  more 
and  more  enthusiastic  in  the  work  of  preparing  ascension- 
robes  for  herself  and  Tommy.  Tommy  was  a  young  Donoe 
of  some  fifteen  or  eighteen  months  old.  He  was  not,  to  be 
sure,  a  very  strong  believer  in  Millerism,  but  then,  as  his 
mother  said,  he  was  "  so  young  and  innocent  like,  he  would 
go  right  straight  up  by  his  own  heft  when  the  time  came,  and 
think  nothing  at  all  about  it." 

Mrs.  Donoe's  Millerism  might  not  have  disturbed  her  hus- 
band much  if  it  had  been  confined  to  a  quiet  opinion  in  her 
own  mind,  which  did  not  interrupt  the  regular  performance  of 
her  domestic  duties.  But,  unhappily,  the  case  was  otherwise. 
Nothing  in  the  house  was  properly  washed  but  ascension- 
robes.  Very  often  there  was  neither  breakfast,  dinner,  nor 
supper,  prepared  for  Gregory.  For  a  time  he  submitted  to 
live  on  casual  luncheons  in  the  store.  But  before  long  he  be- 
gan to  tire  of  the  limited  variety  of  that  establishment,  and 
he  concluded  that  the  world  would  come  to  an  end  for  him, 
pretty  soon,  if  he  was  not  careful.  And  so  he  told  the  Cap- 
tain ;  who  cheered  him  up  by  the  assurance  that,  if  he  could 


86  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

only  get  along  by  the  twenty-third,  he  guessed  things  would 
all  come  out  right  after  all. 

Mrs.  Donoe  derived  the  information,  which  supported  her 
in  her  controversial  discussions  uptm  the  melancholy  subject 
which  occupied  her  thoughts,  from  a  villainous-looking  sheet 
styled,  "  The  Midnight  Cry,"  a  newspaper  of  a  somber  cast  of 
mind,  devoted  to  the  elucidation  of  such  problems  as : — 

Given,  a  beast  with  seven  heads  and  ten  horns,  numbered 
666, — the  date  of  the  Babylonish  captivity,  not  very  definitely 
settled, — a  guess  that  the  word  "  time  "  in  prophecy  means  a 
period  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  years, — a  period  of  seventy 
weeks  with  leave  to  make  it  as  many  centuries  long  as  you 
choose, — as  many  beasts  with  heads,  horns,  wings,  legs,  and 
tails,  ad  libitum,  as  the  nature  of  the  argument  may  seem  to 
demand, — and  such  h'ke  data  ; — 

Required,  to  compute  the  time  of  the  general  end  of  all 
things. 

This  sheet,  being  printed  in  extremely  black  type,  and 
profusely  illustrated  with  graphic  portraits  of  the  various 
beasts  by  which  the  argument  was  supported,  was  by  no 
means  what  one  would  call  light  reading ;  and  was  not  at  all 
calculated  to  give  a  lively  or  exhilarating  turn  to  Mrs.  Donoe's 
discussions  with  her  friends. 

These  discussions,  although  they  turned  chiefly  upon  the  cer- 
tainty with  which  the  destruction  of  the  world  on  the  twenty- 
third  of  April  might  be  counted  upon,  involved  a  further, 
though  subordinate  debate,  upon  the  positions,  prospects,  and 
chances  of  all  the  neighbors.  It  was  a  great  point  with  Mrs. 
Donoe  to  assure  herself,  who,  upon  the  promised  day  was 
likely  to  go  up ; — who,  down. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  87 

Foremost  upon  the  latter  list  in  the  opinion  of  Mrs.  Donoe, 
stood  Captain  Mayferrie.  Her  reasons  for  despairing  of  his 
future  safety,  were  thus  interpreted  to  that  gentleman  by  Aunt 
Provy,  one  afternoon,  when  she  met  him  in  the  village  street. 

"  La !  Captain,"  said  she,  "  do  you  know,  Mrs.  Donoe's  been 
saying  most  awful  things  about  you.  Mrs.  Tripp  was  over  to 
see  me  this  afternoon,  and  says  she,  I  was  down  at  Squire 
Cartrock's,  and  Mrs.  Cartrock  said  her  girls  was  up  to  the  hill 
a  little  while  ago,  up  to  Mrs.  Buxton's,  and  Mrs.  Buxton  says 
that  if  you  're  what  Mrs.  Donoe  says  you  are,  you  're  not  fit  to 
live ;  them  's  her  very  words." 

"  Ha !  ha !"  laughed  the  Captain. 

"  She  says, — you  know  Mrs.  Donoe  's  a  Millerite,  and  be- 
lieves the  world  's  a  coming  to  an  end  next  month, — she  says 
all  sorts  of  things  about  you,  and  Mrs.  Buxton  told  the  Cart- 
rock  girls  that  she  heard  that  Mrs.  Donoe  told  her  husband 
that  you  was  a  reprobate ;  and,  says  she,  the  poor  girl  was  his 
victim,  and  the  child  's  his  outcast." 

"  I  'm  much  obliged  to  you  for  telling  me,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain ;  "  I  must  call  on  Mrs.  Donoe  some  night,  I  think,  if  she 's 
going  to  bring  that  old  gossip  all  up  again." 

Nor  did  the  Captain  forego  his  intention.  A  few  nights 
later  he  stood  in  Gregory  Donoe's  store,  as  the  storekeeper 
was  preparing  to  close  for  the  night. 

"  Is  your  wife  waiting  for  the  end  of  the  world  as  patient 
as  ever  T'  he  inquired  of  the  proprietor  of  the  establishment. 

"  Yes,  just  the  same,"  was  the  reply. 

"She  expects  to  go  up  before  the  fire,  don't  she1?"  con- 
tinued Captain  Mayferrie. 

"  I  believe  she  does,"  answered  the  storekeeper,  somewhat 


88  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

absently.  He  was  putting  some  packages  away  in  a  drawer 
clown  under  the  counter. 

"  It  would  n't  be  quite  unexpected,  if  she  was  to  be  called 
away  to-night,  would  it  ?"  asked  the  Captain. 

"What?"  said  Gregory,  looking  up  quickly,  and  closely 
scanning  the  expression  of  the  Captain's  face. 

"  It  would  n't  come  much  amiss,  would  it,"  said  the  Cap- 
tarn,  repeating  his  inquiry ;  but  this  time  with  a  nod  and  a 
wink,  which  seemed  to  make  a  far  greater  impression  on  the 
trader's  mind  than  did  the  language  of  the  question,  "  if  she 
was  to  be  called  for  to-night? — not  if  she  would  come  back 
to  breakfast  in  her  sober  senses  ?" 

"  Mayferrie,"  exclaimed  the  storekeeper  with  an  appreciat- 
ing smile,  "  you  're  a  regular  brick.  What  '11  you  take  to 
drink  ?"  And  with  unprecedented  generosity,  he  poured  out 
a  full  glass  of  the  Captain's  favorite  beverage,  and  treated  him, 
gratis. 

That  night  was  a  cold  and  blustering  March  night.  About 
one  o'clock  some  one  rapped  sharply  outside  the  window  of 
the  room  where  Mr.  Donoe  and  his  wife  were  quietly  sleeping. 

"  Mrs.  Donoe,"  cried  a  voice  from  without ;  a  sort  of  mid- 
night cry. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  said  Mr.  Donoe,  in  reply. 

"  Mrs.  Donoe,"  responded  the  midnight  cry,  "  Mrs.  Donoe ; 
I  '11  not  talk  to  an  unbeliever." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  said  Mrs.  Donoe  rising  hastily  and  going  to 
the  window. 

"  I  Ve  come  for  you,"  replied  the  cry  without,  laconically, 
"  come  along ;  I  'm  in  a  hurry." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  89 

"Who  is  it1?"  inquired  Mrs.  Donoe,  peering  out  from  be- 
hind the  curtain. 

"  I  'm  an  angel,"  was  the  answer.  "  We  're  a  going  to  cany 
up  all  the  saints  before  the  twenty-third ;  and  they  've  sent  me 
for  you,  so  come  along." 

"  Oh,  Gregory !"  exclaimed  his  wife,  bursting  into  tears,  "  I 
must  go  with  him,  I  must,  I  must.  Oh,  dear  me !  Do  come 
too,  now.  Now  you  know  it 's  all  true  what  I  Ve  told  you  so 
many  times.  Only  believe,  and  we  '11  go  up  together.  Oh,  dear." 

"  Don't  go,  Mary,"  remonstrated  her  husband,  "  I  would  'nt, 
it 's  too  cold ;  besides  that  ain't  an  angel,  I  don't  believe." 

"  Yes  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Donoe,  "  and  I  must  go." 

"  Come,  be  quick,"  said  the  angel,  "  I  'm  as  cold  as  thunder, 
waiting  out  here." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  cold  angel  ?"  asked  Mr.  Donoe  of 
his  wife,  argumentatively. 

Mrs.  Donoe  made  no  reply.  She  busied  herself  with  the 
preparations  that  were  necessary  for  her  departure.  There 
was  but  little  for  her  to  do,  since  she  had  done  nothing  for  a 
month  previous  but  arrange  her  affairs  for  this  crisis.  Grief 
in  her  heart  filled  her  eyes  with  tears,  for,  with  all  her  folly, 
she  loved  her  husband  truly.  To  be  parted  from  him  for  any 
cause,  would  have  been  a  great  affliction  to  her,  but  to  leave 
him  thus,  was  doubly  painful.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed 
but  little  moved  by  the  prospect  of  her  departure,  but  then  it 
must  be  considered  that  he  was  not,  perhaps,  then  fairly 
awake.  At  one  time  indeed,  he  seemed  almost  overcome 
with  emotion,  but  he  soon  stifled  it  under  the  blankets. 
What  kind  of  emotion  it  was,  is  not  easily  determined.  He, 
however,  repeated  his  advice,  that  she  should  disregard  the 


90  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

dubious  summons,  but  to  no  effect ;  an  angel  called  her,  and 
she  must  go. 

"  Mayn  't  I  take  little  Tommy  ?"  said  she,  addressing  the  angel 
without,  "  I  Ve  got  his  robes  all  ready." 

u  No,  no,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  coming  for  all  the  babies  next 
•week ;  let  him  be  ;  and  come  along  yourself  quicker,  do  you 
suppose  an  angel  can  wait  forever  ?" 

Mrs.  Donoe  bid  a  hasty  farewell  to  her  husband,  in  which 
tears,  Millerite  Theology,  kisses,  expostulations,  and  womanly 
affection,  were  strangely  mingled, — gave  the  sleeping  Tommy 
a  parting  caress ;  and  then,  weeping  bitterly,  sallied  out  into 
the  cold  and  blustering  night. 

She  found  her  angel  in  earthly  guise,  resembling  a  stage- 
driver  as  much  as  any  thing.  He  was  warmly  clothed  from 
head  to  foot,  wore  a  warm  fur  cap  and  shaggy  woolen  com- 
forter, and  stood  in  as  stout  a  pair  of  boots  as  ever  cased  the 
feet  of  a  mortal.  As  Mrs.  Donoe  had  never  been  led  to  con- 
ceive of  angels  in  such  a  form  and  dress,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
had  supposed  them  to  consist  of  the  head  and  wings  usually 
assigned  to  them  by  imaginative  artists,  she  felt  her  confidence 
in  his  muffled  angelhood  somewhat  shaken.  She  gazed  upon 
his  countenance  to  discern  that  radiant  glory  which  she  sup- 
posed would  there  appear ;  but  it  was  dimmed  and  quenched 
between  the  fur  cap  which  was  pulled  down  low  over  his  eyes, 
and  the  comforter,  which  was  tied  around  the  lower  part  of 
his  face,  concealing  every  thing  below  the  bridge  of  his  nose. 

The  angel,  however,  gave  her  no  time  for  questions,  but 
grasping  her  arm  started  off  with  her  down  the  road  at  a 
brisk  pace. 

"How  are  we  going  up1?"  inquired  Mrs.  Donoe,  timidly, 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  91 

after  they  had  trudged  some  three  or  four  minutes.  "  We  ain't 
going  to  walk  all  the  way,  I  suppose,  are  we  ?" 

"  No"  said  the  angel,  "  I  Ve  got  a  chariot  of  fire  down  along 
a  piece,  when  we  get  to  it." 

"  A  chariot  of  fire,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Donoe,  mentally.  The 
possibility  that  this  would  be  the  mode  of  her  ascension  had 
never  occurred  to  her.  She  had  expected  to  go  up  in  the  bal- 
loon style,  as  being  safer,  and  more  in  accordance  with  the 
teachings  of  the  Millerite  prophets.  However,  there  was 
nothing  to  be  said  about  the  matter,  and  the  two  walked  on 
half  a  mile  in  silence*  The  angel  would  not  talk,  and  Mrs. 
Donoe  dared  not ;  but  she  began  to  fear  that  the  angels  were 
very  unsocial  creatures.  But  at  last,  as  they  reached  a  place 
where  two  roads  met,  the  angel  spoke : 

"  You  wait  here,"  said  he. 

"  What  for  ?"  said  Mrs.  Donoe.     "  I  don't  see  the  chariot." 

"  We  have  n't  come  to  that  yet,"  replied  the  angel.  "  I  've 
to  go  up  this  other  road  after  two  more  sisters ;  then  we  '11  all 
go  on  to  it." 

So  saying,  he  led  Mrs.  Donoe  to  a  rock  by  the  side  of  the 
road,  which  afforded  her  a  seat,  and  telling  her  to  sit  down 
there  until  he  came  back,  started  off  upon  his  errand.  Mrs. 
Donoe  sat  patiently  down  to  await  his  return. 

"  By  the  way,"  thought  she,  "  if  I  'm  going  up  in  a  chariot 
of  fire,  I  guess  I  '11  carry  up  some  snow ;  perhaps  it  '11  be  hot." 

So  saying,  she  crowded  snow  into  her  shoes  and  bonnet,  as 
well  as  into  such  parts  of  her  dress  as  the  construction  of  her 
robe  allowed ;  in  order  to  be  protected  as  much  as  possible 
from  the  clement  to  which  she  was  to  be  exposed. 

Time  passed  slowly  on,  but  no  angel  appeared.    In  vain 


92  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

the  deserted  lady  stood  up  upon  her  seat,  and  looked  eagerly 
to  see  him  corning  down  the  hill  with  the  promised  compan- 
ions of  her  journey.  He  came  not.  In  vain  she  turned  about, 
and  strove  to  catch  in  the  dim  distance  some  flashes  of  light 
which  might  disclose  to  her  the  stopping-place  of  the  chariot. 
No  light  revealed  its  form.  No  light  could  she  discern,  ex- 
cept that  the  gray  rays  which  warn  us  of  the  morning  were 
beginning  to  make  their  appearance  in  the  east.  Day  was 
dawning ;  but  faster  than  its  tardy  coming,  dawned  the  light 
of  truth  upon  her  mind.  Weary,  cold,  wet,  indignant,  she 
resolved  to  await  no  longer  the  coming  of  her  deceptive  angel, 
but  to  return  to  her  husband  and  her  home. 

Accordingly,  about  five  o'clock,  Mr.  Donoe  was  aroused 
by  another  tap  at  his  window ;  this  time  a  light  and  timid  one. 

"  Who 's  there  ?"  said  he. 

"  I,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Well,  I  know  that,"  said  Mr.  Donoe,  "but  who  is  I?" 

"  Your  wife,  your  own  Mary,"  answered  Mrs.  Donoe. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Donoe;  "my  wife  went  off  with 
an  angel  in  the  middle  of  the  night ;  I  expect  she 's  far  enough 
off  by  this  time." 

"  Oh,  Gregory !"  replied  his  weeping  wife,  "  do  let  me  in, 
I  've  come  back ;  only  try  me,  and  I  never  will  be  such  a  fool 
again." 

Mr.  Donoe  gladly  received  his  wife  home  again,  and  neither 
heard  nor  saw  more  of  her  Millerism.  The  dust  again  flew 
from  the  shelves  and  chairs  betimes ;  the  frying-pan  sputtered 
in  the  morning,  as  of  old,  and  the  tea-kettle  hissed  and  sang 
at  twilight.  The  wash-tub  returned  to  its  wonted  activity, 
and  order  and  comfort  reigned  again  in  the  household. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  93 

The  Captain,  accidentally  passing  the  domestic  entrance  of 
Gregory  Donoe's  one  bright  morning  in  the  first  week  of  Mrs. 
Donoe's  re-conversion,  saw  that  lady  shaking  the  door-mat  on 
the  front-door  steps,  in  front  of  the  porch.  Gregory  himself 
was  standing  near  the  door  watching  that  operation.  From 
all  appearances,  the  mat  had  not  enjoyed  as  thorough  a  shak- 
ing for  some  time. 

"  Your  wife 's  about  again,  I  see,"  said  the  Captain,  in  an 
under  tone,  to  Donoe. 

Gregory  Donoe  grinned  at  the  Captain,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  You  're  a  cute  fellow." 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Donoe,"  said  the  Captain,  in  a  louder 
tone  of  voice. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Donoe,  curtly,  without  looking 
up  however,  and  without  intermitting  her  occupation. 

She  was  the  least  bit  in  the  world  suspicious  of  the  Captain. 

"  It 's  a  fine  morning,"  renewed  the  Captain,  pleasantly. 

No  answer. 

"  Milder  than  last  Tuesday  night,"  persisted  the  Captain,  in 
a  still  more  winning  tone. 

Mrs.  Donoe  looked  sharply  at  the  Captain,  and  murmured 
something  to  the  effect  that  she  "didn't  know  any  thing 
about  last  Tuesday  night." 

"  Gregory  turned  suddenly  around,  away  from  the  house ; 
presenting  to  a  philosophic  cow,  who  happened  to  be  passing, 
a  visage  surprisingly  rosy  and  contorted  with  repressed 
emotion. 

"  I  thought  I  would  just  mention,"  said  the  Captain,  assum- 
ing his  most  gentlemanly  manner,  "that  if  any  body  ever 
comes  t<>  me  a'xain  with  any  gossip  about  my  aft'airs,  that  you 


- 

94  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

had  a  hand  in,  I  shall  feel  obliged  to  tell  them  all  about  your 
trip  with  that  angel." 

"  Oh,  you ! — "  commenced  Mrs.  Donoe,  clinching  her  fair 
hand. 

"  And  about  the  chariot  of  fire,"  added  the  Captain.  And 
he  bowed  a  gentlemanly  bow,  and  passed  on. 

There  was  no  further  gossip  in  Cone  Cut  about  the  affairs 
of  Captain  Mayferrie. 


VIII. 

FROM  THE    LANDING   OF   THE   PILGRIMS,  DOWNWARD. 


IN  the  present  embryotic  state 
of  American  aristocracy,  the 
name  of  Chesslebury  can  not  be 
expected  to  receive  that  admira- 
tion which  it  surely  will  com- 
mand when,  by  the  inevitable 

lapse  of  time,  it  shall  have  become  truly  ancient  and  ennobled. 
It .  is  now  middle-aged  and  respectable.  It  aspires  to  become 
antique  and  venerable.  We  all  know  that  families,  like  cheese  for 
instance,  are  more  highly  esteemed  after  they  have  become  old 
and  rich,  and  fragrant  of  a  certain  highly  artificial  savor.  It  is 
for  this  odor  that  some  of  the  ambitious  members  of  the  family, 
with  whom  we  have  presently  much  to  do,  most  ardently  aspire. 
The  name  of  Chesslebury,  however,  is  not  even  now  to  be 
sneered  at.  It  has  been  in  newspaper  paragraphs  for  many 
years.  It  has  furnished  several  subjects  for  modern  biogra- 
phies, "printed  for  private  circulation — not  published,"  and 
mostly  written  by  modest  descendants,  who  are  supposed  to 


96  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

have  caught  whatever  mantle  of  earthly  virtue  the  late 
lamented  may  have  left  belfind  him.  This  same  name  too, 
appears  once  in  a  foot-note  in  a  memorable  page  of  Bancroft, 
which  makes  that  historian  a  favorite  with  the  readers  of  the 
family.  There  are  towns  named  for  it  too.  It  has  been 
called  by  the  tellers  in  Legislatures  with  various  prefixes, 
from  Peter  to  Lafayette,  time  out  of  mind — that  is  to  say,  for 
almost  three  quarters  of  a  century — and  it  may  be  further  said, 
if  that  adds  any  thing  to  the  weight  of  such  considerations,  that 
it  has  graced  three  defeated  tickets  in  congressional  elections. 

It  is,  therefore,  a  very  respectable  name. 

There  hangs  at  this  moment  in  the  library  of  Lafayette 
Chesslebury,  Esquire,  an  elaborate  painting  of  the  coat  of  arms 
of  his  family.  The  resurrection  of  this  decoration  has  been 
a  recent  work;  and  it  now  begins  to  be  announced  upon 
proper  occasions,  which  occur  with  sufficient  frequency,  that 
the  American  branch  sprang  from  "two  brothers  who  came 
over  in  1*7 — ,  and  settled  in  Connecticut,"  where  their  name 
has  been  industriously  propagated  ever  since. 

Of  this  branch  of  the  family  tree,  the  bough  with  wlu'ch  we 
have  more  particularly  to  do,  comprises  five  twigs :  Hon. 
Lafayette  Chesslebury,  Mrs.  Virginia  Chesslebury,  the  two 
Misses  Chesslebury,  and  the  young  Master  Chesslebury. 
These  have  some  time  since  forsaken  the  country  condition 
and  circumstance"  of  the  Connecticut  Chessleburys,  and  have 
sought  modern  and  urban  prosperity  in  the  city  of  New  York. 

Mr.  Chesslebury's  original  profession  was  Law.  It  was 
now,  Money.  He  started  in  life-  by  practice  in  .the  rural 
districts.  In  this  he  was  quite  successful.  He  knew  enough 
law  to  talk  to  his  clients,  and  gain  about  half  his  cases,  which 


CONK     CUT     CORNERS.  97 

is  said  by  those  who  ought  to  know,  to  be  no  mean  profi- 
ciency in  his  profession.  Becoming  thus  an  important  man 
in  the  county,  he  gradually  assumed  political  engagements, 
which  carried  him  more  and  more  into  public  life.  When  he 
had  achieved  his  election  into  the  State  Legislature  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  all  things  considered,  it  would  be  a  very 
good  time  for  him  to  marry.  Here  arose  a  perplexity.  Mr. 
Chesslebury  did  not  know  upon  whom  to  confer  his  name, 
and  this  question  was  made  still  more  serious  and  embar- 
rassing by  the  thought  that  he  had  just  added  "  Honorable," 
to  that  name.  He  scanned  the  horizon  of  his  acquaintances 
without  finding  any  star  of  sufficient  magnitude  to  throw 
much  light  upon  his  path  and  prospects.  For  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury had  set  his  heart  on  Congress,  and  in  default  of 
Congress,  an  office.  "  Now,"  reasoned  he,  "  I  have  a  pretty 
good  chance  to  run  in  as  representative  next  year  ;  as  good  a 
chance  as  I  can  make  it ;  and  if  that  falls  through,  I  must 
have  the  train  laid  for  being  appointed  District  Attorney.  I 
must  therefore  plan  with  reference  to  that.  I  must  many 
into  some  first-rate  family ;  some  family  with  large  political 
influence ;  that 's  what  I  need.  The  best  thing  I  can  do  is 
to  go  to  Washington  a  little  while  this  winter,  and  perhaps 
things  will  lead  to  something."  In  pursuance  of  this  reso- 
lution, the  Honorable  Lafayette  Chesslebury  finally  wooed, 
won,  and  married  one  of  the  first  families  in  Virginia — in 
fact,  without  doubt,  the  very  first — in  the  person  of  Miss 
Virginia  Plumme. 

Mr.  Chesslebury  was  a  smart  man,  not  a  great  man.  The 
life  of  a  smart  man  is  the  asymptote  to  the  hyperbola  of 
trivatness.  It  continually  approaches,  but  can  never  meet  it. 


08  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

The  political  interest »,  and  influence  of  Miss  Virginia 
Pluinnie  very  curiously  losing  its  strength  as  soon  as  she  was 
married  and  settled,  Mr.  Chesslebury  was  obliged  to  console 
himself  with  the  seven  thousand  and  odd  per  annum,  which 
bonus  he  had  received  when  he  took  his  better  two-fifths  off 
the  hands  of  the  first  family.  Moreover,  as  next  fall,  a  poor 
democrat,  who  had  often  mado  horse-shoes  for  him  in  the  coun- 
try, ran  over  him  in  the  congressional  election,  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury, with  characteristic  readiness,  found  opening  before  himr 
other,  far  higher  aims,  and  infinitely  broader  prospects  than  an 
attorneyship,  or  a  seat  in  the  somewhat  plebeian  hall  of  repre- 
sentatives. Soon  his  ambition  converged  to  that  of  his  wife,  and 
he  removed  to  New  York  ;  "  which  is,  after  all,"  said  he,  "  the 
center  and  head-quarters  of  all  those  interests — and  influences 
— and  powers — which  are  the  real  sources  of  any  great  success 
in  life,  and  of  those  things  which  do  finally  lead  to  something." 

In  the  lower  part  of  Broadway  he  opened  an  office,  and  de- 
voted himself  to  such  practice  as  came  to  him — which  was 
little ;  to  managing  his  property — which  was  considerable ;  to 
speculating  largely  and  shrewdly  in  things  which  were  going 
to  lead  to  something ;  and  to  achieving  for  the  Chesslebury 
name  that  eminence  and  precedence  in  the  fashionable  world 
to  which  it  was  undeniably  entitled. 

Mrs.  Chesslebury  is  therefore  of  the  best  society.  Few 
stand  better  in  the  best  society  than  she.  She  is  a  leader  in 
the  world  of  fashion.  Few  have  higher  qualifications  for  that 
very  lofty  and  commanding  position. 

The  world  of  fashion  in  which  she  shines  is  not  a  large 
world,  but  it  is  a  very  choice  world.  Its  orbit  is  smaller  than 
tin?  orbits  of  some  others  ;  the  path  prescribed  for  it  in  the 


CONE    CUT    c  o  n  :•;  K  K  .s .  I;  v 

social  system  is  narrow,  but  it  is  exclusive.  It  is  an  indus- 
trious world;  it  works  late  at  night,  and  far  into  the  next 
morning,  and  only  retires  to  rest,  putting  out  its  many  lights, 
when  the  morning  sun  begins  to  extinguish,  one  by  one,  the  stars. 
Like  the  moon,  the  world  of  fashion  shines  by  night ;  and  shows 
but  a  feeble,  faded  face  by  day.  It  is  an  ambitious  world ; 
ambitious  to  wear  the  newest  dress,  to  produce  the  most  re- 
cent fashion — to  make  the  most  striking  show.  It  is  a  world 
which  spends  much,  dresses  much,  talks  much, — -does  little.  It 
is  a  world  of  smiling  faces,  and  of  envious  hearts — of  bright  eyes 
and  dull  intellects — of  brilliant  nights,  and  of  cold  gray  morn- 
ings. It  is  a  world  of  great  cry ;  but  not  of  a  great  deal  of  fine 
wool ; — a  world  of  much  glitter ;  but  of  very  little  pure  gold. 

Prominent  as  a  leader  in  this  world  is  Mrs.  Lafayette  Ches- 
slebury, well  fitted  by  nature  and  education  for  her  position ; — 
well  endowed  with  all  those  charming  qualities  of  mind  and 
person  which  make  the  world  of  fashion  so  elevated  and  so 
elevating.  The  great  object  of  her  life  is  to  outshine  Mrs. 
Stuccuppe ;  as  the  great  object  of  Mrs.  Stuccuppe's  life  is  to 
outshine  Mrs.  Chesslebury.  The  world  of  fashion  is  pretty 
equally  divided  between  the  two.  One  half  takes  its  tone 
from  Mrs.  Stuccuppe, — the  other  half  from  Mrs.  Chesslebury. 

Mrs.  Stuccuppe  drinks  the  waters  at  Saratoga.  Mrs.  Ches- 
slebury bathes  and  yachts  at  Newport.  Mrs.  Stuccuppe  at- 
tracts admiring  glances  in  morning  service,  by  a  new  Parisian 
bonnet.  Mrs.  Chesslebury  extinguishes  her,  next  Sunday, 
with  a  camel's  hair  shawl.  Mrs.  Stuccuppe  annihilates  Mrs. 
Chesslebury  with  "  the  largest  party  of  the  season,"  in  which, 
she  introduces  the  new  feature  of  tableaux.  Mrs.  Chesslebury 
the  next  week  attains  a  glorious  resurrection,  in  a  triumphant 


100  CONE    -CUT     CORNERS. 

fancy  dress  ball.  Meanwhile,  they  arc  to  each  other  warm 
friends ;  and  no  acquaintances  in  an  evening  party  shake 
hands  more  cordially  than  these  two  mortal  enemies. 

In  all  such  fashionable  warfare,  Mrs.  Chesslebury  is  unsur- 
passed. A  host  within  herself,  wherever  she  goes,  she  carries 
strength  and  courage  to  her  friends,  and  spreads  rout  and  dis- 
may among  her  enemies.  Young  ladies  growing  up  in  the 
world  of  fashion,  model  themselves  after  her.  Old — we  beg 
their  pardon — mature  ladies,  hesitate  not  to  imitate  her 
closely.  Young  men,  connoisseurs,  pronounce  her  a  splendid 
woman,  and  her  husband  a  lucky  fellow  ;  and  the  pair  never 
enter  a  ball-room  together  without  producing  a  sensation. 

She  is  bold  in  open  contest,  skillful  in  tactics,  placid  in 
triumph,  and  graceful  in  defeat.  She  has  a  mind  for  maneu- 
vering, an  ear  for  scandal,  an  eye  for  the  faults  and  frailties  of 
her  friends,  and  a  hand  for  her  husband's  purse. 

The  elder  Miss  Chesslebury,  just  seventeen  by  the  family 
genealogy,  has  lately  finished  her  education,  and  has  butter- 
flied,  or  as  that  process  is  termed  among  the  insects  of  fash- 
ionable life,  has  "  come  out,"  this  winter.  The  younger  Miss 
Chesslebury  is  still  in  chrysalis  at  a  boarding-school.  Both 
of  them  sing  a  little,  play  a  little,  dance  a  little,  and  misun- 
derstand French  a  good  deal.  There  is  also  in  the  family, 
young  Master  Chesslebury,  already  mentioned  in  these  pages. 
But  young  masters  are  of  no  account  in  the  fashionable  world. 
Of  him,  more  hereafter. 

This  comprises  the  whole  of  the  list;  and  gives  you.  sir, 
what  many  a  young  gentleman  would  give  his  head,  aye  !  and 
a  good  deal  more  than  that  is  worth,  to  obtain ;  namely,  a  per- 
sonal introduction  to  the  Chessleburv  family. 


IX. 


AUGUST,    1S4TT 


THE  Chesslebury  mansion, 
a  building  brick  in  substance, 

but  veneered  with  free-stone,  stands  four  stories  high  in  the 
vicinity  of  Washington  Parade  Ground ;  and  the  younger 
Miss  Chesslebury,  sitting  listlessly  by  the  -window,  overlooks 
the  park,  and  sees  through  the  green  foliage  a  number  of  vul- 
gar people  sitting  upon  the  benches. 

From  stopping  to  rest  upon  a  bench  a  moment,  and  munch 
a  penny  apple,  purchased  on  the  spot,  a  boy  wends  his  way  to 
the  Chesslebury  mansion,  heavily  laden  with  vulgar  bundles. 

No !  we  beg  your  pardon,  madam !  There  is  nothing  vulgar 
in  those  bundles.  This,  for  instance,  is  a  French  silk  ; — that 
an  expensive  shawl ; — this  a  pair  of  Cinderella-sized  slippers. 
This  littlest  parcel  is  a  pair  of  kid  gloves,  which  it  is  the  gen- 
teolost  thing  to  wear  upon  the  hands ;  but  a  veiy  vulgar 


102  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

thing  to  carry  in  the  hand,  thus  tied  up  in  brown  paper.  On 
so  slight  a  matter,  madam,  depend  so  important  results. 

The  boy  goes  straight  to  the  Chesslebury  mansion,  know- 
ing it  of  old.  He  climbs  its  broad  steps,  rings  the  door-bell, 
and  sits  down  upon  a  step,  to  wait  for  an  answer ;  whistling, 
meanwhile,  a  popular  melody  with  brilliant  variations,  and 
keeping  time  with  his  head.  The  performance  is  interrupted 
in  the  middle  of  the  second  repetition,  by, — 

"  Well !  there,  boy !"     What  do  you  want  ?" 

The  speaker  is  a  very  sprucely-dressed  gentleman,  whose 
boots  are  of  the  brightest  polish,  whose  coat  is  of  the  glossiest 
black,  whose  marseilles  vest  is  of  the  most  unspotted  purity, 
whose  clerical  neckcloth  is  of  the  most  dazzling  whiteness, 
whose  whole  mien  and  manner  is  that  of  one  fresh  starched 
every  morning,  like  his  own  linen. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Chesslebury  in  ?"  inquired  the  lad. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  gentlemanly-dressed  young  man,  coolly 
surveying  the  boy,  whom  he  at  onee  noted  as  belonging  to 
the  lower  order  of  creation.  "  Yes,  Mrs.  Chesslebury  is  in." 

This  he  said  with  the  door  opened  but  a  little  way,  and 
the  space  fully  occupied  by  his  own  prepossessing  person. 

"  Bundles  for  her,"  said  the  boy. 

"  You  can  leave  the  things.     I  will  see  to  them." 

"  I  am  to  see  her,  if  you  please." 

"Well,  really,"  said  the  gentlemanly-dressed  young  man, 
in  soliloquy,  quite  deprived  for  the  moment  of  his  usual  pres- 
ence of  mind.  Then  recovering  himself,  in  a  tone  of  some  im- 
patience he  added, — 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  come  in,  then  ?" 

Saying  this,  he  threw  the  door  open,  standing  carefully  on 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  103 

one  side,  lest  he  should  be  contaminated  by  the  vulgar  pres- 
ence. The  boy,  modestly  entering  his  bundles,  was  proceed- 
ing to  follow  them  himself,  when  he  was  again  interrupted. 

"  Hold  on  there,"  said  the  gentlemanly  dressed  young  man, 
"  what  do  you  suppose  scrapers  were  made  for  ?" 

The  boy  made  no  further  answer  to  this  interrogatory  than 
to  scrape  his  feet  very  hard  against  the  scraper,  which  stood 
outside  the  door,  and  to  burnish  them  very  bright  upon  the 
mat  which  lay  within.  The  gentlemanly-dressed  young  man 
then  shut  the  door,  and  departed  up  the  richly-carpeted  stairs, 
treading  apologetically  upon  the  pictured  flowers,  which 
climbed  naturally  enough  up  the  spiral  staircase. 

"  Which  Miss  Chesslebury  did  you  wish  to  see  T  inquired 
he,  stopping  half  way  up,  and  turning  partly  around  to  ad- 
'  dress  the  boy,  who  was  leaning  wearily  against  the  wall. 

"  It's  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  if  you  please,"  returned  the  boy. 

"Mrs.  Chesslebury.  Eh1?"  said  the  gentlemanly-dressed 
young  man.  "  That 's  quite  another  matter.  Why  could  n't 
you  say  it  right  at  first.  No.  She  's  out.  Or  stop.  It 's 
just  possible  she  may  be  in.  I  '11  ask." 

So  saying,  he  went  on  up  stairs  to  inquire  of  Mrs.  Chessle- 
bury whether  she  were  in ;  that  worthy  lady  having  just  in- 
formed him  over  the  bannisters  that  she  was  out  unless  the 
boy  from  Haggle  &  Change's  came. 

Mrs.  Chesslebury  and  the  elder  Miss  Chesslebury  were  ex- 
amining dress  patterns.  The  younger  Miss  Chesslebury  was 
working  a  beautiful  design  in  Avorsted — a  green  butterfly  in  a 
blue  oyster-shell,  reposing  amid  a  bed  of  many-colored  roses. 
Young  Jason  Chesslebury,  pressed  into  that  service  much 
against  his  will,  was  reading  aloud. 


104  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Well,  "Wilson,"  said  Mrs.  Cliesslebury,  as  the  gentlemanly 
dressed  young  man  entered  the  room. 

"  It 's  the  boy  from  Haggle  &  Change's." 

"Good!"  cried  Jason;  "Cousin  Paul!"  So  saying,  he 
threw  down  the  book,  and  darted  out  of  the  room,  very  glad 
of  the  interruption. 

"  Jason !     Jason  !"    called  his  mother,  reprovingly. 

But  Jason  had  already  disappeared  down  the  stairs,  or  to 
speak  more  accurately,  down  the  bannisters,  upon  which  he 
had  slid,  descending  like  a  young  avalanche. 

"  Oh,  dear !  What  a  boy  !"  sighed  the  younger  Miss  Ches- 
slebury. 

"  Oh  !  how  ridiculous  !"  exclaimed  her  sister  ;  "  running 
after  a  shop-boy  in  that  manner." 

"  Let  the  boy  leave  the  things,"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury. 

"I told  him  that,  ma'am,"  replied  Wilson,  "and  he  said  he 
wanted  to  see  you." 

"  Let  him  wait,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury. 

"Very  well,  ma'am." 

"Hulloa,  Cousin  Paul,"  cried  Jason,  sliding  dexterously  off 
the  bannister,  and  cordially  shaking  hands  with  him.  "  How 
are  you  ?" 

"Tired,"  said  the  boy. 

Paul  Bundle,  though  Jason's  second-cousin,  was  entirely 
unknown,  to  the  Chesslebury  genealogy.  His  mother,  origin- 
ally a  Chesslebury,  had  voluntarily  excommunicated  herself, 
when  she  promised  to  love,  honor,  and  obey  a  Rundle — a  mere 
shopman — a  fellow  of  no  pretensions  to  gentility  whatsoever. 
She  never  had  stood  high  in  that  family  before.  She  was 
now  utterly  disowned.  Her  name  was  struck  off  the  family 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  105 

visiting-list,  and  she  no  longer  moved  in  any  society  at  all. 
A  few — Mr.  Chesslebury  among  the  number — kept  up,  for  a 
while,  a  limited  acquaintance  with  the  Bundles,  in  the  hope 
that  it  might  lead  to  something.  But  when  Mr.  Rundlo 
invested,  through  Mr.  Chesslebury's  advice,  in  an  unlucky 
speculation,  by  taking  stock  in  one  of  Mr.  Chesslebury's  com- 
panies, the  result  of  which  operation  was  the  transfer  of  all  his 
property  to  Mr.  Chesslebury's  pocket,  the  business  world,  as 
well  as  the  fashionable  world,  deserted  him,  and  the  Rundles 
were  known  no  more  forever.  Thus  it  was  that  Paul,  though 
Jason's  second-cousin,  was  unknown  to  the  Chesslebury 


"Come  in,  and  sit  down,"  said  Jason. 

*  The  boys  entered  the  parlor  and  sat  down.  The  room  was 
one  which  seldom  saw  the  daylight.  The  shutters  were  closed 
now,  and  the  dark  curtains  were  not  gathered  up  in  graceful 
folds,  but  hung  heavily  to  the  floor.  Paul  noticed,  however, 
that  the  sofa  on  which  they  sat,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  fur- 
niture, was  covered  with  a  brown  linen  dress,  like  that  which 
elephants  are  accustomed  to  wear  when  entering  a  country 
village  in  company  with  a  menagerie. 

"  How  are  they  all  at  home  ?"  asked  Jason. 

"First-rate." 

"And  how 's  your  father  ?"  inquired  Jason,  hesitatingly. 

Paul  shook  his  head  sorrowfully,  but  said  nothing.  Jason 
understood  the  answer. 

"  I  say,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "  why  didn't  you  come  up 
yesterday?  Ma's  dreadfully  cross  that  the  things  didn't 
come  before."  , 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  answered  Paul,  despairingly,  "  if  she  is. 
5* 


106  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

I  can't ,  manufacture  the  silk,  or  steal  the  gloves.  I  have  to 
take  them  when  they  're  given  to  me.  I  came  straight  here 
as  soon  as  I  could  get  them." 

"  Well,  I  know  it,"  replied  Jason.  "  I  don't  blame — " 
"  Now,  look  here  ;  this  is  how  it  is,"  continued  Paul,  inter- 
rupting him,  "  I  come  away  from  the  store  with  a  dozen  bun- 
dles. I  come  here  first.  And  your  mother  keeps  me  waiting 
half  an  hour  before  she  '11  see  me,  and  then  I  have  to  catch 
it  because  the  things  were  n't  brought  before.  Then  I  go  to 
Mrs.  Stuccuppe's,  and  there  I  have  to  wait  for  half  an  hour, 
and  then  catch  it  because  a  ribbon  does  n't  match ; — as 
though  I  had  any  tiling  to  do  with  that ; — and  then  I  go  to 
Mrs.  Minnyflinn's,  and  there  I  have  to  catch  it  because  the 
last  silk  she  bought  was  n't  a  good  one ;  and  so  on ;  every^ 
where  they  keep  me  half  an  age,  and  blow  me  up  for 
other  people's  faults  ;  and  then,  when  I  get  back  to  the  store 
again,  I  have  to  catch  it  finally  for  being  gone  so  long,  and 


"  Well,  I  declare,"  commenced  Jason,  "  it  is  too  bad." 

"  And  if,"  continued  the  boy,  interrupting  him  again,  "  I 
am  tired,  or  in  a  hurry,  or  both,  and  try  to  hook  a  ride  a 
little  way,  why  I  am  a  dishonest  scapegrace  ;  and  if  I  get  cut 
behind,  I  get  laughed  at." 

"  Why !  don't  you  ride  ?"  asked  Jason.  "  I  mean  if 
you  're  going  far." 

"  Hide  !  bless  you !  no !  I  wish  I  did.  Now,  to-day,  I 
have  n't  had  any  dinner,  not  to  speak  of.  I  shan't  have  any 
tea,  nor  yet  supper ;  and  if  I  get  to  bed  before  to-morrow 
morning,  I  shall  be  lucky.  Then  if  I  ain't  at  the  store  early 
to-morrow,  and  get  the  windows  washed  and  the  store  swept 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  107 

out  before  seven  o'clock,  I  am  a  slow  stupid,  or  a  lazy  rascal. 
Oh  !  ho  !  If  it  was  n't  for  Susie  and  mother  I  don't  know 
what  I  should  do." 

"And  do  you  have  to  run  of  errands  all  the  day  ?"  asked  Jason. 

"All  day,  and  half  the  night,  too.  It 's  nothing  but  bun- 
dles, bundles,  bundles,-  from  morning  to  night.  Why,  a 
lady — a  real  fine  lady — can't  buy  a  yard  of  ribbon,  or  a  pair 
of  gloves,  but  they  must  be  sent  home.  My  feet  ache  so, 
sometimes,  when  I  get  home,  with  being  on  them  all  the 
time  !  Heigho  !  I  wish  your  mother  would  come  down." 

"  I  '11  go  and  see  if  I  can't  get  her  to,"  said  Jason. 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  presently  returned  with 
Mrs.  Chesslebury,  whom  he  had  persuaded,  though  not  with- 
out much  difficulty,  to  come  down. 

"  Well,  Bundle,"  said  the  lady,  graciously,  to  him. 

"  Here  are  all  the  things,  ma'am,"  replied  he,  now  out  in 
the  entry,  and  placing  the  Chesslebury  bundles  on  one  of  the 
entry  chairs.  "  And  if  you  please,  ma'am,"  he  added,  hesita- 
tingly, "  Mr.  Change  wants  to  know  would  you  find  it  con- 
venient to  settle  that  bill."  He  handed  it  to  her  as  he  spoke. 

"  Bless  me  !"  said  she,  "  isn't  that  thing  settled  yet  ?  You 
brought  this  to  me  a  month  ago." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Paul. 

"And  I  told  you  then,"  said  the  lady,  "not  to  bring  these  bills 
to  me.  You  must  carry  them  to  Mr.  Chesslebury,  to  the  office. 

"  And  so  I  did,"  said  Paul,  "  and  Mr.  Chesslebury  said  that 
he  did  not  know  any  thing  about  it.  He  could  n't  settle  it. 
I  must  bring  it  to  you.  He  said  I  must  n't  bring  these  bills 
to  him,  never.  I  must  carry  them  to  the  house." 

"Oh  !  it's  a  mistake,"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury;  "/haven't 


108  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

got  the  money.  I  never  keep  the  money  here.  You  must 
carry  the  bill  to  him,  and  just  say  that  I  said  it  was  all  right. 
He  will  settle  it.  It 's  of  no  use  bringing  these  bills  to  me — 
no  use." 

Of  this  Paul  \vas  very  well  satisfied,  as  he  took  the  bill 
back  again  from  Mrs.  Chesslebury.  Four  times  did  Paul  thus 
play  shuttlecock  between  the  house  and  the  office,  before  he 
succeeded  in  getting  even  any  promise  of  payment ;  and  that 
was  only  by  finding,  luckily,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chesslebury  at  home 
together,  one  evening,  where  neither  could  well  refer  him  to 
the  other. 

"  And  what,"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  taking  up  a  bundle 
directed  to  Mrs.  Stuccuppe,  "  and  what  is  in  this  ?  Do  you 
know,  Bundle  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  said  Paul. 

"  It  feels  like  velvet.  Look  here,  Helen.  I  wonder  what 
this  is.  Something  new  for  Araminta,  I  expect." 

"  Poor  thing  !  I  hope  so,"  said  the  elder  Miss  Chesslebury, 
in  a  tone  of  great  commiseration.  "  She  has  worn  that  pink 
brocade  of  hers  three  times.  I  declare  it  is  quite  dreadful  to 
think  of  it." 

"  It  certainly  is  velvet,"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  opening  a 
little  crack  in  the  corner,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  better 
observation. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Helen. 

She  took  the  bundle,  and  slipped  the  string  partly  off. 

"  Oh  !  please  not,"  said  the  boy,  starting  forward,  and  then 
stopping,  frightened  at  his  own  boldness. 

"  Oh  !  dear  me,"  said  Miss  Helen  ,  "  you  need  not  be  fright- 
ened. I  shall  not  hurt  it." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  109 

"  I  don't  see  what  business  you  have  to  open  it,"  remon- 
strated Jason.  "You  wouldn't  like  it  if  Araminta  should 
open  your  bundles." 

"  'T  would  be  just  like  her,  the  meddlesome  minx  !"  return- 
ed Miss  Helen,  opening  the  bundle  at  the  end,  and  examining 
its  contents. 

"What  a  lovely  color!"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  looking 
over  her  daughter's  shoulder. 

"It  is  a  cheap  thing,"  said  Miss  Helen,  contemptuously, 
testing  its  quality  between  her  thumb  and  finger. 

Probably  no  epithet  in  Miss  Chesslebury's  vocabulary  con- 
tained so  much  of  contempt  as  the  word  cheap.  At  all 
events,  it  completed  the  examination  of  the  dress  pattern,  and 
she  tossed  the  parcel  back,  leaving  Bundle  to  tie  it  up  as  well 
as  he  might.  She  then  followed  Mrs.  Chesslebury  up  stairs ; 
while  Jason  covertly  went  out  with  Paul,  to  accompany  him 
up  to  Mrs.  Stuccuppe's,  and  help  him  carry  his  bundles. 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury  to  her  husband  that 
night,  "  don't  go  right  to  sleep.  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about 
Jason." 

"  Well !"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury. 

"  He  ought  to  go  away  some  where  to  school,"  continued 
she.  "  He  is  getting  into  very  low  habits  here.  To-day  he 
went  up  to  Mrs.  Stuccuppe's  with  a —  what 's  his  name — 
Bundle.  And  he  actually  carried  some  of  his  bundles  for 
him." 

"  Yes  !"  responded  the  gentleman.  "  I  Ve  been  thinking  of 
that  for  some  time  past.  It  is  very  important  that  he  should 
be  placed  at  some  good  institution  immediately.  He  is  just 


110  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

at  that  age  when  it  is  of  the  highest  consequence  that  his 
mind  should  be  properly  trained,  and  its  growth  rightly  di- 
rected. And  we  ought  to  be  peculiarly  careful,  my  dear,  in 
respect  to  the  character  of  the  circle  of  his  acquaintance.  He 
should  be  placed  in  some  quiet,  yet  exclusive  circle,  where  his 
tastes  and  manners  may  be  formed  in  a  mold  more  congenial 
to,  and — and — and  better  fitted  for,  the  position  in  society 
which  his  family,  and,  I  think  I  may  safely  say  so — his  abili ties, 
are  eminently  calculated  to  bestow  upon  him." 

"  There 's  Doctor  Crammer's  Collegiate  Institute,"  suggested 
his  wife. 

"  And  yet,"  said  he,  doubtfully,  "  there  are  objectionable 
features  even  in  that  excellent  institution.  It  is  too  much, 
perhaps,  of  a  miscellaneous  character ;  which  is,  indeed,  a 
characteristic,  I  regret  to  say,  of  all  our  American  institutions 
of  learning.  There  are,  I  am  afraid,  many  lads,  sons  of  shop- 
keepers, and  even  mechanics  and  farmers,  at  Doctor  Crammers, 
with  whom  we  should  naturally  not  wish  our  son  to  associ- 
ate in  future  life,  or  even  now.  'T  was  only  last  night,  I  think, 
that  Jason  told  me  young  Haggle  was  going  to  school  there, 
this  fall." 

Mrs.  Chesslebury  shuddered. 

"  Cone  Cut  has  occurred  to  me,  -as  a  place  better  fitted,  in 
some  resp — " 

"  Why,  bless  me !  Mr.  Chesslebury,"  interrupted  his  wife. 
"  There  is  no  school  there.  Nothing  but  a  village  academy." 

"  True,  my  dear,"  returned  he,  "  but  I  should  not  propose 
to  send  him  directly  to  the  academy.  Let  him  go  into  some 
quiet  family  ;  the  minister's  for  example.  What  is  his  name  .' 
Some  sort  of  vegetable,  I  think.  Corn  1  no  it  can  not  be  corn.'' 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  Ill 

"  Grain,"  suggested  Mrs.  Chesslebury. 

"  Thank  you.  That  is  the  word,  Grayne.  He  has  no  chil- 
dren, I  think.  Strange  I  should  have  forgotten  his  name ; 
we  used  to  be  at  school  together,  once.  Jason  would  have  no 
common  acquaintances  and  friendships  to  form  therefore. 
And,  indeed,  it  would  be  more  like  employing  a  private  tutor 
for  him  than  sending  him  to  a  public  school.  It  would 
be,  it  is  true,  rather  more  expensive  than  the  ordinary  course 
of  education,  but — augh — "  he  ends  the  sentence  with  a 
yawn. 

The  expense  Mr.  Chesslebury  stated  in  form,  as  an  objec- 
jection  ;  but  in  effect,  as  a  recommendation. 

"Will  it?"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury.  "Well!  perhaps  then, 
that  is  the  best  place." 

"I — augh — dear  me — "  another  tremendous  yawn — "think 
that  will  be  found  to  be  the  most  desirable  course  to  be  pur- 
sued." As  he  said  this,  considering  the  discussion  virtually 
finished,  he  turned  over  and  composed  himself  to  sleep  ;  he 
then  continued,  "  In  such  a  position  he  will — he  will  be  free 
from  all — all  restraints  and — and — ;  what  was  I  saying  ?  I 
mean  from  all — from  all  associates  and — 

There  is  a  brief  pause. 

"  When  is  he  to  go,  Mr.  Chesslebury  ?" 

No  answer. 

"  Mr.  Chesslebury  !  Mr.  Chesslebury  !  I  say,  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury !" 

"  Eh  !  What  1"  said  he,  suddenly. 

"  When  is  he  to  go  ?" 

"  Yes !  I  think  so  too.     He  had  better  go  by — by  all — " 

"Yes!  but  when?     Mr.  Chesslebury!  I  say  Mr.  Chessle- 


112  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

bury !  Oh !  dear  me ;  just  like  him.  Always  will  go  to 
sleep  when  I  want  to  talk  ;  and  always  will  talk  when  I  want 
to  go  to  sleep." 

And  this  was  the  way  it  was  decided  that  Jason  should  go 
to  Cone  Cut  to  school. 


X. 

SEPTEMBER,   1347. 


"  IF  all  the  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren in  the  world  were  one  great  man, 
and  all  the  axes,  hatchets,  and  knives 
were  one  great  ax,  and  all  the  trees 

and  bushes  were  one  great  tree,  and  all  the  oceans,  seas, 
lakes,  rivers,  ponds,  brooks,  and  fountains  in  the  world,  were 
one  great  ocean ;  and  if  the  great  man,  taking  the  great  ax, 
should  cut  down  the  great  tree,  so  that  it  fell  into  the  great 


114  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

ocean, -what  a  tremendous  splash  it  would  make,"  theorizes 
an  ancient  proverb  with  which  the  authors  of  this  veracious 
history  recollect  to  have  been  greatly  entertained  in  their 
infancy. 

Very  much  such  a  splash  as  this  did  the  news  that  Jason 
Chesslebury  was  coming  to  pursue  his  education  at  the  Cone 
Cut  Academy  create,  when  it  was  first  precipitated  into  the 
placid  mind  of  Miss  Provy  Pease  ; — from  which  central  point, 
circling  ripples  of  intelligence  flowed  out  over  all  the  surface 
of  society  at  Cone  Cut  Corners. 

For  the  academy  of  that  town  did  not  boast  a  foreign  repu- 
tation. It  was  not  a  college,  as,  in  certain  portions  of  our  re- 
public, most  academies  are  growing  up  to  be.  Nor  was 
its  principal  a  "  Professor."  Nor  had  that  functionary  re- 
ceived that  degree  of  "Doctor  of" — something  or  other, — to 
which  every  man  who  attains  a  position  of  mediocrity  in  litera- 
ry pursuits, — and  keeps  it, — is  now  understood  to  be  entitled. 

Nor  was  the  Institution  heralded,  from  term  to  term,  in  the 
city  prints,  in  advertisements,  setting  forth  in  effect,  that  Cone 
Cut  Academy  was  so  near  the  city  that  parents  could,  without 
the  slightest  inconvenience,  enter  their  children  as  students, 
and  visit  them  upon  the  shortest  notice,  while  it  was  yet  so 
remote  that  no  adventurous  boy  could  return  unexpectedly  ; — 
that  its  situation  was  at  once  so  retired  as  to  entice  the  minds 
of  youth  to  engrossing  study,  and  yet  so  rurally  agreeable 
as  to  tempt  to  constant  and  healthful  pastime  in  the  open 
air; — that  as  a  special  favor  to  particular  friends  in  urgent 
cases,  any  body's  children  would  be  received  into  the  family 
of  the  principal,  where,  for  a  consideration  merely  nominal, — 
absolutely  a  bagatelle, — they  would  enjoy  not  only  every  phys- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  115 

ical  luxury,  no  matter  how  costly,  but  also  that  strict  and  ele- 
vated moral  training  which  is  more  closely  associated,  in  the 
mind  of  the  boyish  philosopher,  with  lasting  and  flagellation, 
than  with  good  living. 

It  may  have  been  that  such  eminent  advantages  as  these, 
which  now-a-days  seem  to  be  the  uniform  perquisites  of  rural 
schools,  were  not  at  the  command  of  the  founders  of  the  Cone 
Cut  Academy.  At  all  events  those  unsophisticated  men  had 
been  content  to  intrust  the  management  of  their  school  to  a 
young  man  who  had  grown  up  in  their  own  town,  and  had 
won  his  way  to  a  good  education  by  hard  labor.  He  had  de- 
voted himself  steadily  to  the  task  of  educating  the  youth  of 
Cone  Cut  and  its  vicinity,  without  laboring  for  a  more  extend- 
ed feme. 

Thus  it  was  that  Jason  Chesslebury  was  the  first  who  had 
ever  joined  the  school  from  quarters  beyond  the  immediate 
neighborhood. 

Nor  is  it  likely  that  Mr.  Chesslebury  would  have  had  his 
attention  favorably  drawn  to  this  seat  of  learning,  as  an  eligi- 
ble place  for  his  son  to  pursue  his  education,  had  it  not  been 
for  a  slight  circumstance  connected  with  the  early  financial 
management  of  the  academy.  A  number  of  years  before, 
when  the  old  church  was  first  surrendered  to  the  uses  of  the 
school,  the  trustees  had  applied  to  Mr.  Chesslebury,  their 
wealthy  ex-townsman,  then  on  a  summer's  visit  among  them, 
for  a  pecuniary  loan  to  aid  them  in  making  the  desired  altera- 
tions in  the  building.  With  this  request  Mr.  Chesslebury  had 
complied,  to  a  limited  extent,  taking  the  note  of  the  trustees 
for  the  amount  of  his  advance.  This  note  the  trustees  had 
*"  never  found  it  convenient  to  pay.  Such  a  circumstance  as 


116  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

this,  was  exactly  calculated  to  interest  Mr.  Chesslebuiy  in  the 
academy ;  to  give  him,  as  it  were,  a  paternal  feeling  toward 
it.  Therefore,  he  had  often  written  for  information  upon  the 
affairs  of  the  school,  asking — "  how  they  were  getting  on,"-^ 
"  what  their  prospects  were," — "  how  they  were  off  for  cash," 
and  making  other  like  inquiries  indicating  his  friendly  interest 
in  the  welfare  of  his  pet  academy.  And  this  autumn,  finding 
money  rather  tight,  and  looking  about  him,  as  rich  men  do 
when  times  are  hard,  to  discover  what  retrenchments  he  could 
make  without  making  any  sacrifices,  he  bethought  himself 
that  he  had  better  send  Jason  to  Cone  Cut  and  endorse  his 
bills  upon  the  note,  than  keep  him  at  school  in  New  York 
and  pay  them  in  cash. 

"Besides,"  ruminated  Mr.  Chesslebury,  putting  the  Cone 
Cut  note  back  into  the  little  tin  box  which  served  as  coffin 
for  sundry  "  dead  papers"  of  like  character ;  "  a  run  in  the 
country  '11  do  him  good  ;  the  country  is  the  best  place  to  be 
brought  up  in,  after  all." 

What  weight  Mr.  Chesslebury  attached  to  these  respective 
considerations,  can  not  at  this  distance  of  time  be  ascertained. 
It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  arguments  which  he  suggested 
to  his  wife  in  the  domestic  council,  revealed  in  the  last  chap- 
ter, were  not  those  which  operated  most  strongly  upon  his 
own  mind.  Notwithstanding  this,  however,  the  plan  was 
duly  carried  into  effect,  the  black  trunk  embroidered  with 
bright  brass  nails,  presenting,  in  the  midst  of  various  geometri- 
cal devices,  the  initials  J.  L.  C.,  was  seasonably  packed,  and,  on 
the  appointed  day,  Jason  departed  from  the  Chesslebury 
mansion. 

Our  young  friend,  having  duly  arrived  at  the  residence  of 


COXE     CUT     CORNERS.  117 

Elder  Graynes,  made  a  very  favorable  impression  upon  the 
scrutinizing  and  inquisitive  eyes  that  were  immediately  turned 
upon  him. 

First  was  the  inspection  of  the  Elder  himself,  made  gravely 
and  silently  through  the  medium  of  a  pair  of  substantial  silver 
spectacles,  produced  for  the  purpose  from  a  pocket. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  my  young  friend,"  said  the 
Elder,  in  a  hortatory  tone  of  voice,  and  seating  himself  as  he 
spoke,  in  a  rocking-chair.  "  I  hope  you  and  I  shall  get  along 
together  as  well  as  your  father  and  I  used v  to,  when  we  were 
at  school." 

"Father  told  me,"  answered  Jason,  with  a  frank  smile, 
"  about  the  good  times  you  used  to  have  together." 

The  good  pastor  smiled  at  the  reminiscences  of  mischief 
thus  called  up,  and  silently  nodded,  as  if  to  confess  that  the 
lad  had  the  advantage  in  the  first  approaches  of  their  ac- 
quaintance. 

The  eyes  that  Jason  next  became  conscious  of,  were  those 
of  Airs.  Graynes,  an  elderly  lady,  grave  too,  and  kindly  in  her 
manner,  like  her  husband.  Mrs.  Graynes  was  seated  in  an- 
other rocking-chair,  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  still  sum-* 
mer-screened  fire-place,  and  by  the  side  of  her  little  work- 
table,  where  she  was  employed  in  getting  out  work  for  the 
sewing  circle.  The  two  rocking-chairs  were  alike,  except 
that  the  Elder's  wore  a  coat  of  paint — a  black  coat — and 
looked  ministerial,  while  his  wife's  chair  wore  a  chintz  dress, 
with  the  usual  stuffing  upon  the  seat,  and  looked  matronly. 
The  occupants,  too,  resembled  each  other,  except  that  the  one 
was  osteifcibly  masculine,  and  the  other  apparently  feminine. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  quiet  current  of  their  lives  had  run  so  long 


118 

in  one  channel  that  they  formed  indeed  one  and  the  same. 
When  the  husband  smiled  and  recognized  Jason's  quiet  sug- 
gestion in  anticipation  of  questions  of  discipline,  the  wife 
smiled  and  nodded  too ;  and  when  the  Elder  asked  Jason 
about  the  health  of  his  father,  the  wife  followed  with  inquiries 
after  the  wejfare  of  his  mother;  and  finally,  when  Mrs. 
Graynes  apologized  for  withdrawing  to  the  kitchen  on  the 
ground  of  household  duties  preliminary  to  supper,  the  Elder 
excused  himself  for  going  out  in  the  other  direction  to  put 
away  the  garden  tools,  which  he  said  he  had  left  behind  the 
house. 

Jason,  however,  was  not  to  be  left  in  the  sitting-room  upon 
ceremony.  He  followed  the  Elder  into  the  garden,  where 
finding  that  the  basket,  which  the  latter  had  been  filling  with 
potatoes  from  the  hills,  was  but  half  full,  he  suggested  the 
propriety  of  completing  the  job;  and  briskly  rolling  up  his 
sleeves,  grasped  a  vine  with  a  sweep  of  his  hands,  and  had 
the  roots  shaken  free  of  earth,  and  dangling  over  the  basket, 
before  the  Elder,  had  he  been  accustomed  to  that  expression, 
could  have  said  Jack  Kobinson ;  much  less,  Jason  Lafayette 
Chesslebury.  Looking  up  with  a  smile,  Jason  stood  back  to 
let  the  Elder  uncover  the  hill. 

"  Aha,"  said  Elder  Graynes,  "  I  did  n't  think  you  city  boys 
knew  as  much  as  that." 

By  the  time  the  hoe  was  planted  to  uncover  the  first  hill, 
Jason  had  the  next  one  opened ;  and  before  the  Elder  could 
bend  his  stiffened  back  to  pick  up,  Jason  was  stooping  over 
the  hill,  and  the  potatoes  were  rattling  into  the  basket. 
When  Jason  came  trudging  unceremoniously  in  at*  the  back 
door  of  the  kitchen,  carrying  the  heaped  basket,  the  surprised 


CONE     OUT     CORNERS.  119 

Mrs.  Graynes  within  said,  "  Thank  you,  Jason,"  in  exactly  the 
same  kind,  pleasant  tone  in  which  her  husband,  who  followed 
with  the  hoe,  had  uttered  it  five  minutes  before,  in  the  garden 
without. 

During  the  few  moments  they  had  been  out  of  the  house, 
Jason  had  been  the  unconscious  focus  of  many  eyes. 

Miss  Lucretia  Oleanda  Blossom,  who  had  been  looking 
from  her  parlor  window  opposite,  ever  since  the  stage 
came  in,  said  he  was  a  fine-looking  little  fellow,  until  she 
saw  him  picking  up  potatoes;  and  then  she  added? as  if  in 
the  same  sentence,  that  his  manner  was  quite  rude  and 
boyish. 

Mrs.  Boggs,  who  was  a  judge  of  character,  of  juvenile 
character  in  particular,  and  was  then  looking  at  the  young 
stranger  from  around  the  water-butt  which  stood  Under  her 
own  eaves,  soliloquized  a  compliment  and  a  resolution  to  af- 
ford him  an  early  opportunity  to  gather  a  basket  of  chips 
for  her  own  domestic  hearth. 

Mr.  Trimmins,  the  tailor,  who  was  accidentally  passing  the 
Elder's  gate  at  about  the  same  time,  leaned  his  short  per- 
son against  the  fence,  tarrying  to  familiarize  his  eye  with 
what  he  assured  himself  must  be  the  latest  fashion  of  youth's 
roundabouts  in  New  York ;  and  next  week  reproduced  his 
idea  of  the  same  in  the  shape  of  a  jacket  with  half  sleeves, 
and  only  quarter  coat  tails,  for  Master  William  Henry  Blos- 
som, younger  brother  to  Miss  Lucretia  Oleanda. 

Mrs.  Soozle,  who  was  of  a  different  persuasion  from  the 
Elder,  and  deplored  his  ministrations,  remarked  from  behind 
her  thin  hedge,  across  the  lane,  that  the  Elder  was  getting  the 
poor  fellow  at  work  in  good  season,  and  she  though!  it 


120  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

would  pay  well  at  that  rate  if  her  husband  had  a  boarder 
from  the  city. 

And  Miss  Provy  Pease  herself,  coming  briskly  in  at  the 
garden  gate,  followed  the  Elder  into  the  kitchen,  and  running 
before  him  to  greet  the  stranger,  cried  out ; — 

"  So  this  is  Master  Jason  Chesslebury  :  I  am  happy  to  see 
you,  Jason,  how  do  you  do  ?  You  left  them  all  well  in  New 
York  I  hope  ?" 

To  this  unexpected  greeting  Jason  responded  with  better 
grace  than  Miss  Provy  Pease  was  accustomed  to  receive  from 
unknown  young  gentlemen  of  his  age ;  and  she  being  quite 
struck  with  admiration,  addressed  her  remarks  thereafter  to 
Mrs.  Graynes,  to  help  whom,  she  averred  she  had  come  in,  as 
she  happened  to  be  going  by. 

Miss  Provy  Pease  prolonged  her  stay  some  tune  ;  but  no 
favorable  opportunity  arising  for  her  to  offer  her  services  in 
assisting  in  the  unpacking  of  Jason's  trunk,  she-  contented 
herself  with  dispatching  the  preparations  for  supper.  She 
received  an  invitation  from  the  Elder,  and 'a  similar  one  from 
his  wife,  to  stay  to  tea.  This  she  declined  to  do,  saying  with 
a  laugh,  that  she  could  n't  leave  Calick  to  starve ;  and  there- 
upon she  threw  on  her  white  sun-bonnet  and  nodded  herself 
out  again. 

And  thence  on  every  hand  the  ripples  spread.  Flowing  in 
through  a  door  here,  and  through  an  open  window  there  ; 
now  eddying  over  a  garden  gate,  now  dashing  up  at  a  second 
story.  And  so  the  ripples  spread. 

One  of  these  ripples  reached  Mr.  John  Mayferrie  in  the 
store  of  Gregory  Doqpe. 

Mr.  Mavferrio  was  then  verv  comfortably  seated  in  a   rush- 


CONK     CUT     COKNERS.  121 

bottomed  chair,  tipped  up  against  the  door-post  of  the  store. 
It  was  hardly  the  gentlemanly  position  he  was  accustomed  to 
assume  some  years  ago.  But  perhaps  he  had  just  finished  a 
hard  day's  work,  and  might  be  pardoned  this  indulgence. 
There  was  an  idle  tip  about  the  hat  he  wore,  and  when  he 
rose  there  was  something  in  his  gait,  not  by  any  means  the 
vigorous  step  and  handsome  bearing  he  used  to  have.  But 
then  perhaps  a  farmer's  life  and  hard  toil  had  made  him  stand 
less  straight  and  tread  less  firmly. 

When  the  ripple  reached  him  he  rose  and  remarked  that  it 
was  growing  dark,  and  time  for  steady  people  like  him  to  be 
off.  With  this  he  started  homeward.  Tea  was  just  finished 
as  he  approached  the  parsonage. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  Elder,  who  was  standing  in  the  open  door 
with  Jason,  after  tea,  "  there  goes  Captain  Mayferrie." 

But  Captain  Mayferrie  did  not  seem  to  be  decided  to  go 
by,  and  as  he  lingered  a  moment  near  the  gate,  the  Elder  sal- 
lied out  to  exchange  a  word.  Jason  followed. 

"  Captain  Mayferrie,  this  is  our  young  friend,  Master  Chessle- 
bury." 

"  Good  evening,  Mister  Chesslebury,"  said  the  Captain, 
handsomely. 

Jason  stepping  up,  clandestinely  put  his  foot  on  the  lower 
bar  of  the  front  fence,  to  raise  himself  to  a  level  with  his  new 
acquaintance,  and  his  new  title. 

"  You  have  come  to  spend  some  time  among  us,  have  you 
not  F 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  hope  so." 

"  I  should  be  happy  to  have  you  come  up  and  see  me.  My 
place  is  on  the  hill  right  up  the  road.  They  all  know  where 


122  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

it  is.  I  should  be  happy  to  see  you.  Come  any  time.  We 
are  getting  in  apples  now.  We  have  about  got  through  with 
that,  and  are  beginning  to  make  cider.  I  always  begin  that 
early,  and  mine  is  pretty  good  too,  they  tell  me.  Come  up 
to-morrow  and  you  shall  have  some  cider,  and  as  many  ap- 
ples as  you  can  bring  home." 


XL 


SEPTEMBER,    134T. 


MR.  BAXTER  BLOSSOM,  who  may  perhaps,  be  styled  the 
Captain  of  the  Cone  Cut  Infantry,  inasmuch  as  he  taught  the 
young  idea  of  that  pleasant  village  how  to  shoot,  pursued  his 
vocation  in  a  curious  old  intellectual  pistol-gallery,  known  in 
Cone  Cut  chronicles  as  the  Academy.  It  was  a  building 
originally  erected  to  serve  as  a  church,  when  the  village 
numbered  fewer  church-goers  than  at  this  day.  But  as  time 
passed  on,  and  the  congregation  grew  too  large  for  their 
edifice,  there  were  but  two  courses  open  to  them  ; — to  split  up 


1-24 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


into  half  a  dozen  .denominations,  build  five  additional 
churches,  settle  five  additional  pastors,  and  set  themselves 
diligently  at  work  to  convert  each  other — or,  upon  the  other 
hand,  to  build  one  larger  church  and  worship  therein  in  har- 
mony. 

.  Unlike  most  towns  in  New  England  when  in  a  simi- 
lar emergency,  they  chose  the  latter  course;  and  thus  it 
was,  that  upon  the  completion  of  their  new  building,  the  old 
church  became  the  new  academy.  It  was  very  little  changed 
without;  but  somewhat  more  within,  where  the  old  pulpit 
was  razeed  to  make  a  platform  for  Mr.  Baxter-  Blossom's 
seat,  the  former  pews  were  re-modelled  to  the  form  of  desks, 
and  the  little  singer's  gallery  was  fitted  up  as  a  recitation- 
room.  To  this  Mr.  Blossom  daily  conducted  little  troops 
upon  various  intellectual  target  excursions.  And  in  this 
arrangement  he  enjoyed  one  eminent  advantage — that  he 
could  stand  sentinel  over  the  whole  force  under  his  command 
.below  stairs,  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  able  effectually 
to  superintend  the  practice  of  the  particular  detachment  on 
duty  above. 

It  was  into  this  academy  that  Master  Jason  Chesslebury 
was  brought  by  destiny  and  Elder  Graynes,  to  commence  his 
intended  course  of  study.  And  the  term  being  now  well 
under  way,  and  the  school  prosperous,  the  desks  were  nearly 
full.  All  up  and  down  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  aisle  the 
seats  were  filled  with  boys ; — big  boys,  little  boys,  shame- 
faced boys,  bold  boys,  lazy  boys,  industrious  boys,  bright  boys, 
roguish  boys.  And  on  the  other  side  were  girls; — young 
girls,  grown-up  girls,  handsome  girls,  plain  girls,  charming 
girls,  fine  girls,  pretty  girls,  queer  girls. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  125 

At  the  further  end  of  the  room  there  had  formerly  been 
upon  each  side  of  the  church  three  side  pews  which  faced  the 
pulpit,  with  doors  opening  out  toward  the  body  of  the  house. 
These  had  been  favorite  seats  with  all  the  boys  in  the  days  of 
the  old  church,  as  affording  at  once  a  view  of  the  minister 
and  of  the  singers.  But  now  their  popularity  had  departed. 
Those  on  one  side  had  been  removed  to  make  room  for  an 
extensive  set  of  hat  and  cloak-stands.  Those  upon  the  other 
had  been  replaced  by  a  pair  of  school-desks,  each  long  enough 
to  seat  four  scholars.  The  forward  one  of  these  was  vacant. 
That  behind  it  wns  occupied  by  a  young  girl  alone.  Bending 
over  her  slate,  with  long  curls  shading  a  still  childish,  yet 
almost  womanly  face,  she  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  in- 
dulge herself  in  a  good  look  at  the  new  comer. 

Her  curiosity  respecting  him,  if  any  she  felt,  was  somewhat 
gratified,  inasmuch  as,  since  Mr.  Blossom,  after  a  short 
examination  of  his  new  pupil,  installed  him  in  the  unoccupied 
desk  just  before  her,  she  had  an  excellent  view  of  so  much  of 
the  new  scholar's  person  as  could  be  seen  from  her  position. 
And  before  long,  as  the  novelty  of  his  new  seat  began  to  wear 
off,  and  Jason  began  to  grow  tired  of  having  nothing  to  do, 
and  but  a  dull  place  to  do  it  in,  he  casually,  as  it  were,  and 
with  great  and  well-assumed  appearance  of  accident,  turned 
himself  about  from  time  to  time,  to  observe  his  new  neigh- 
bor ;  finding  upon  nearly  every  such  occasion  that  she  was 
herself  equally  busy  in  observing  him. 

Not  to  make  advances  toward  a  better  acquaintance,  under 
such  circumstances,  was  not  to  be  Jason  Chesslebury.  And 
having  no  better  letter  of  introduction,  that  young  gentleman 
drew  from  his  pocket  a  good-sized  russet  apple,  one  of  Cap- 


1*. 


COKE     CUT     CORNERS. 


tain  Mayferrie's  best  graftings,  and  having  previously  pre- 
pared a  slip  of  paper  containing  the  phrase,  borrowed  from  his 
city  reminiscences — "  introducing  Mr.  Jason  L.  Chesslebury" — 
fastened  it  to  the  brown-cheeked  fruit  by  the  simple  process 
of  driving  a  pin  through  the  paper  and  cheek,  into  the  very 
seeds  of  the  apple.  This  done,  and  having  watched  Mr.  Blos- 
som into  the  very  furthest  corner  of  the  room,  he  adroitly  laid 
his  peace-offering  upon  the  young  lady's  desk,  in  such  man- 
ner that,  without  opportunity  for  remonstrance  on  her  part,  it 
rolled  directly  down  into  her  very  lap. 

There  was  a  look  of  surprise  and  interest  upon  her  face  as 
she  looked  up  from  reading  the  inscription ;  which  was 
quickly  mirrored  in  Jason's  countenance,  when  she  covertly 
opened  her  arithmetic,  and  turning  it  half  round  to  meet  his 
eye,  permitted  him  to  read,  inscribed  upon  the  inside  of  the 
cover,  the  classic  lines : 

"  Steal  not  this  book,  for  fear  of  shame, 
For  here  you  see  the  owner's  name. 

SALA>T>A  PEASE  CHESSLEBUBY." 

"  What !"  exclaimed  Jason,  in  a  whisper,  Mr.  Baxter  Blos- 
som being  nearly  forgotten  in  the  discovery  of  a  namesake ; 
"  You  a  Chesslebury  ?" 

But  Jason  was  not  forgotten  by  Mr.  Baxter  Blossom.  That 
careful  preceptor  had  seen  the  apple  roll ;  and  stealthily  mak- 
ing his  way  up  to  the  delinquent's  seat,  Jason's  question  had 
scarcely  passed  his  lips  when  he  felt  himself  sternly  grasped 
by  the  arm,  and  lifted  bodily  over  his  fair  neighbor's  desk, 
and  seated  by  her  side. 

"  There  ;"  said  the  ironical  Mr.  Blossom,  "  now  talk." 

^here  was  a  titter  among  the  girls,  and  a  grin  passed  across 


COXE     CUT     CORNERS.  12 

the  faces  of  the  boys,  at  this  prompt  vindication  of  outraged 
law  and  order. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  responded  Jason  with  cheerful  submis- 
sion ;  "  we  will." 

Another  titter,  and  another  grin.  But  Mr.  Blossom  al- 
lowed no  laughing  in  school  hours,  except  at  his  own  wit. 

"  Silence  !"  said  he  ;  and  he  emphasized  the  command  with 
so  forcible  a  blow  upon  his  desk,  that  he  was  fain  to  examine 
his  knuckles  as  he  went  down  the  aisle,  under  the  strong  sus- 
picion that  he  had  broken  the  skin  upon  them. 

"  I  say,"  said  Jason  in  a  whisper,  as  Mr.  Blossom  retired, 
keeping  an  eye  and  a  half  upon  Salanda,  and  half  an  eye  on 
Mr.  Baxter  Blossom. 

But  Salanda  would  not  say.  Bending  over  her  slate,  she 
ciphered  with  a  rapidity  and  energy  very  unusual  among  Mr. 
Blossom's  pupils. 

"  I  say,"  continued  Jason,  laying  his  head  down  on  the 
desk,  and  looking  right  through  the  curls,  "  are  you  truly  a 
Chesslebury  P 

The  slightest  possible  shake  of  the  head,  not  so  much  a 
negative,  as  an  injunction  to  silence,  was  the  only  response 
that  he  received. 

"  I  say,"  continued  Jason,  venturing  to  pull  the  fold  of  the 
calico  dress  that  lay  nearest  to  him,  "  he  said,  talk." 

But  talk  his  companion  would  not,  and  Jason,  much  against 
his  will,  was  compelled  to  leave  his  promise  to  his  teacher 
unperformed. 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  he  to  himself,  but  in  a  whisper  intended 
for  Salanda's  ear.  "  I  think  it 's  too  bad.  You  ought  to 
mind  the  teacher.  He  told  us  to  talk." 


128  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

»  » 

When  school  was  dismissed  that  afternoon,  Jason  did  not 
immediately  return  to  Elder  Graynes'.  He  turned  first  to 
seek  for  his  new  acquaintance,  but  she  had  disappeared. 
Partly  in  the  hope  to  meet  her,  and  partly  in  the  desire  to 
explore  the  precincts  of  his  new  scene  of  duty,  he  lingered  for 
some  time  around  the  school-house.  Having  at  last  seen  suf- 
ficient of  that,  and  nothing  of  her,  he  concluded  to  bid  his 
preceptor  good  afternoon.  For  this  purpose  he  entered  the 
school-room. 

Mr.  Blossom  was  drilling,  with  a  terrific  voice  of  command, 
a  small  company,  who,  having  been  unfortunate  in  their  reg- 
ular afternoon  exercise,  were  detained  on  duty  for  further  dis- 
cipline. English  grammar  was  the  field  whereon  these  dis- 
ported themselves. 

"  MAN,"  said  the  terrific  voice,  reading  from  a  text  book  of 
moral  sentiments,  adapted  to  dissection  and  analytical  examin- 
ation ;  "  MAN — is — A — SOCIAL — BEING.  NEXT,  PARSE  MAN." 

Next  attempted  the  task ;  but  finding  himself  at  an  early 
stage  of  the  usual  formula  unable  to  determine  whether 
"  man"  was  in  the  first  person  and  agreed  with  "  is"  in  the 
nominative  case,  or  whether  it  was  not  a  personal  pronoun, 
referring  to  "  social  being"  ;  there  was  a  silence. 

"Well,  Chesslebury?" 

"  I  came  in,  sir,"  replied  that  youth,  "  to  ask  if  you  would 
like  me  to  keep  the  last  seat  you  gave  me  to-day  1" 

"  ITm !"  said  the  voice,  surprised  into  a  moderate  tone. 
"  I'll  see  about  it ;  ask  me  again  to-morrow." 

This  was  Mr.  Blossom's  invariable  and  invincible  shield 
against  troublesome  questions.  It  served  the  purpose  now  ; 
for  Jason,  who  wished  to  ask  the  question  a  good  deal  more 


COKE     CUT     CORNERS.  129 

than  he  desired  to  gain  an  answer,  turned  away  quite  satis- 
fied, and  departed  home. 

And  as  he  passed  the  door  he  heard  the  voice  commence 
again,  terrific ; — 

"  MAN  is  A  SOCIAL  BEING.     NEXT,  PARSE  MAN." 

Salanda,  going  home  that  afternoon,  walked  hurriedly  and 
out  of  breath,  she  hardly  knew  why  ;  partly  with  excitement, 
and  partly  in  apprehension  that  her  new  acquaintance  might 
be  following  in  the  same  path.  Strange  timidity  !  for  as  she 
hastened,  she  looked  back,  fearing  nevertheless  that  he  might 
be  going  in  the  other  direction. 

Walking  with  nervous  haste,  she  soon  came  to  Aunt 
Provy's.  Finding  that  lady  at  home,  she  immediately  de- 
tailed her  strange  introduction  to  the  new  comer.  From 
Aunt  Provy  she  had  a  long  extemporaneous  biography  of  the 
young  gentleman,  including  a  circumstantial  account  of  his 
arrival,  of  the  objects  of  his  sojourn,  and  the  conjectured 
length  of  his  stay,  together  with  a  review  of  his  birth  and  pa- 
rentage, and  a  statement  of  pedigree  ;  the  whole  concluding 
with  a  masterly  discussion  of  the  controlling  motive  of  Mr,  ^ 
Chesslebury  in  wooing  and  espousing  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  which 
was  conclusively  shown  to  be  compounded  thus ;  one  third 
an  eligible  match,  one  third  high  family  connections,  one 
third  an  aristocratic  alliance,  and  the  rest  love. 

The  russet  apple  stood  for  several  days  upon  Salanda's  little 
study  table,  in  the  diminutive  slanting-roofed  chamber  which 
she  called  her  room.  It  ultimately  fell  a  prey  to  that  des- 
truction which  awaited  all  of  Captain  Mayferrie's  russets. 
But  the  seeds  Salanda  carefully  saved,  and  treasured  for 
6* 


130 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


many  months  in  one  corner  of  a  little  compartment  of  her 
work-box.  And  the  note  of  introduction  finally  found  an 
appropriate  place,  at  the  foundation  of  a  packet  of  notes 
longer  and  less  formal. 


XII. 


JANUARY,    1S4S. 


THE  lapse 
of  six  months 
enabled  Jason 
and  Salanda 
to  become 
very  well  ac- 
quainted; and  mid-winter  found  them  most  excellent  friends. 

That  same  mid-winter,  at  church  one  pleasant  afternoon, 
found  Salanda,  seated  in  Aunt  Provy's  pew  at  the  side  of  the, 
pulpit,  attentive  to  the  ministrations  of  Elder  Graynes;  and 
found  Jason,  seated  in  the  Elder's  pew — a  front  pew  it  was — 


132  COXE     CtTT     CORNERS. 

with  his  head  somewhat  shaded  by  his  hand,  attentive  to  the 
movements  of  Salanda. 

The  last  strain  of  Old  Hundred  had  ceased.  The  final, 
long-drawn  squeak  of  the  chorister's  violin  had  expired,  and 
the  congregation  were  standing  in  noisy  expectation  of  the 
benediction.  Elder  Graynes  arose  in  the  pulpit. 

All  the  boys  immediately  began  to  feel  for  their  hats. 

"  I  omitted,"  said  he,  "  to  give  notice  that  there  will  be  a 
temperance  meeting  on  Tuesday  evening  next,  at  seven  o'clock, 
in  the  brick  school-house  in  the  Bunganock  district.  It  is 
hoped  there  will  be  a  general  attendance." 

Then  followed  the  benediction,  during  which,  from  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  younger  portion  of  the  congregation,  a  deaf 
hearer  might  reasonably  have  supposed  the  minister  to  be 
saying:  "Now,  wait  a  moment,  boys; — let  all  have  a  fair 
chance — make  ready  hats; — -now  start!"  The  congregation" 
then  began  to  disperse.  The  men  of  Cone  Cut  greeted  each 
other  in  the  porches,  the  old  ladies  gathered  in  little  knots  to 
gossip,  and  the  younger  ladies  walked  slowly,  very  slowly, 
toward  home,  interspersed  by  entirely  accidental  young  gen- 
tlemen. 

A  temperance  meeting  in  a  New  England  village,  presents 
two  attractive  features.  Any  one  attends  it  who  wishes  to 
practice  oratory,  and  it  thus  offers  to  beginners  in  that  art^  a 
fine  opportunity  to  display  their  forensic  powers.  Then  again 
it  is  usually  appointed  in  the  winter  season,  when  there  is 
good  sleighing,  and,  if  possible,  a  fine  moon ;  circumstances 
which  add  much  to  the  size  and  pleasure  of  the  meeting. 

Jason's  interest  in  these  abstract  considerations  was  greatly 
heightened  when  he  perceived  Salanda  a  little  before  him  in 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  133 

the  path,  by  the  calculation  that  Salanda  and  himself  upon 
the  front  seat,  and  Miss  Lucretia  Oleanda  Blossom  and  her 
cousin  Carrie  Vining  upon  the  back,  with  buffalo  robes  to 
match,  would  exactly  fill  Captain  Mayferrie's  new  sleigh,  and 
form  an  inspiriting  load  for  Captain  Mayferrie's  best  horse. 

The  identical  horse  and  sleigh  was  now  before  him,  and 
Calick,  in  fur  cap  and  big  mittens,  was  holding  the  best  horse, 
while  the  Captain  was  handing  into  the  new  sleigh,  ladies 
young  and  old,  invited  promiscuously  on  the  spot,  from  among 
the  dispersing  congregation.  When  the  Captain  had  filled 
the  sleigh,  and  had  cast  his  eye  over  the  crowd  of  bonnets  to 
calculate  the  best  order  in  which  to  distribute  his  load,  he 
took  his  seat  in  front,  and  received  at  Calick's  hands  the 
reins.  Jason  climbed  upon  the  runner  by  the  Captain's  side, 
and  as  they  started  he  said, — 

"  Mr.  Mayferrie,  are  you  going  to  the  temperance  meeting  2" 

"  I  guess  not,  Jason." 

"Well,  were  you  intending  to  use  your  horse  Tuesday 
night  ?" 

"Oh,  you'd  like  to  go,  eh?  Well,  you  shall.  I'll  lend 
you  the  horse,  only  don't  take  him  into  the  meeting,  because 
I  don't  want  him  to  get  any  bad  ideas." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Jason. 

"But,  Jason,"  said  the  Captain,  stopping  him  as  he  was 
about  to  jump  off,  "  don't  take  too  many  girls  with  you,  for 
you  '11  be  sure  to  upset  them." 

Jason,  laughing,  jumped  off  to  speak  to  Salanda,  whom  they 
had  just  passed. 

"  Oh  !  Salanda,"  said  he,  speaking  as  if  the  opportunity 
was  quite  accidental,  "  will  you  go  to  the  temperance  meeting 


134  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Tuesday  night  ?     There  will  be  a  splendid  moon,  and  it  is 
capital  sleighing ;  I  have  got  Captain  Mayferrie's  horse  and 


"  Yes,  certainly,"  said  Salanda,  "  if  Aunt  Provy  will  let  me. 
Who  else  is  going  ?" 

Then  Jason  said  he  did  not  know,  that  was  for  her  to  say ; 
and  then  Salanda  was  going  to  say — and  then  Deacon  Fick- 
som  appearing,  Jason  bid  her  a  sudden  good  morning  and  fell 
behind. 

Early  Tuesday  evening,  Jason  drove  the  Captain's  sleigh 
down,  and  took  in  his  load,  though  not  without  a  great  deal 
of  laughing  and  joking,  particularly  at  the  expense  of  the 
young  lady  who  in  accordance  with  ingenious  management  on 
his  part,  was  to  sit  with  him  on  the  front  seat.  And  after 
wrapping  his  companions  up  well  with  buffalo  robes,  he 
started  off  with  his  load  of  ardent  spirits  for  the  temperance 
meeting.  On  they  went ;  the  horse  smoking,  sleigh-bells  jing- 
ling, girls  all  laughing,  every  one  talking,  no  one  listening, 
going  to  the  temperance  meeting. 

At  length  they  came  to  a  little  square  wooden  school-house, 
painted  after  the  fashion  of  country  school-houses,  red  on  the 
outside,  and  not  at  all  within.  It  presented  the  other  familiar 
features  appropriate ;  a  large  wood-pile  by  the  door,  and  every 
tree  or  bush  which  might  add  to  the  warmth  or  beauty  of  the 
place,  carefully  cut  down.  But  what  does  that  matter  ?  When 
all  were  gathered  around  the  huge  wood  fire  which  crackled 
and  roared  as  if  old  Boreas  himself  had  escaped  from  his  dun- 
geon, what  mattered  appearances  without  ? 

The  interior  was  quite  a  curiosity.  Rows  of  long  slanting- 
topped  desks  ran  across  the  room.  Valuable  desks  these 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  135 

were ;  made  of  the  genuine  old  Connecticut  mahogany,  in 
form  antique,  and  cut  and  carved  in  curious  figures,  with  mys- 
terious ciphers  and  initials.  By  the  side  of  the  door,  as  if  to 
guard  it,  was  the  master's  desk.  It  stood  upon  a  square  plat- 
form, with  an  elderly  arm-chair  behind  it.  On  the  desk  lay 
several  well-worn  books,  the  inkstand,  a  couple  of  pens,  and 
the  noble  ruler,  so  often  wielded  in  scholastic  strife.  On  the 
right  hand  of  the  teacher's  desk,  and  corresponding  with  the 
door,  stood  the  remains  of  the  blackboard. 

Salanda  and  her  companions  had  scarcely  warmed  their 
numb  fingers  at  the  glowing  fire,  when  some  volunteer  stepped 
upon  the  teacher's  platform,  and  suggested  that  the  meeting 
should  come  to  order.  The  meeting,  taking  this  suggestion  in 
good  part,  came  to  order  accordingly.  The  gentlemen  took 
their  seats  upon  one  side  of  the  house,  leaving  the  ladies  to 
take  the  other,  as  was  required  by  the  Cone  Cut  etiquette  of 
public  meetings.  Then  upon  a  further  suggestion  of  the  vol- 
unteer upon  the  platform,  the  meeting  proceeded  to  elect  a 
moderator ;  and  after  some  delay,  the  moderator  elect  was 
duly  installed.  He  was  a  gentleman  known  to  be  somewhat 
fond  of  making  long  and  tedious  speeches,  and  was,  per- 
haps, elected  chiefly  on  this  account;  just  as  in  the  world 
outside  of  Cone  Cut  we  notice  that  many  men  in  high 
places  are  placed  there  because  they  are  in  the  way  any  where 
else. 

There  was  a  few  moments'  delay  before  speakers  could  be 
induced  to  come  forward.  But  at  length,  in  response  to  a  call 
from  the  Chair,  Colonel  Willick,  the  same  gentleman  whose 
vinegar  was  at  an  early  stage  of  this  history  experimentally 
compared  by  Deacon  Ficksom  with  the  article  sold  under  that 


136  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

name  by  Gregory  Donoe,  and  who  more  lately  attained  a 
military  elevation,  arose  to  address  the  audience. 

Colonel  "Willick  standing  up,  spit  and  put  his  hands  into  his 
pockets,  looking  very  earnestly  and  intently  at  the  floor,  spit 
and  half  seated  himself  against  the  corner  of  the  desk  behind 
him,  and  then  spoke  as  follows : 

"  Mr.  Moderator,"  (spit,  and  a  pause,)  "  I  did  n't  expect 
(spit)  to  be  called  upon  to  speak  to-night ;  I  came  to  (spit) 
listen,  not  to  talk,  (spit,  and  took  one  hand  out  of  his  pocket 
and  hung  it  by  the  thumb  in  the  arm-hole  of  his  waistcoat.) 
There  are  others  more  able  to  please  this  (spit)  audience,  and 
better  orators  (spit).  I  don't  feel  prepared  to  (spit)  break  the 
ice ;  but  after  it  is  broken,  I  will  drop  into  the  same  hole. 
(Spit,  followed  by  great  applause  from  all).  I  believe  in  (spit) 
temperance ;  but  I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  talking  man.  My 
heart  is  all  right,  (spit  several  times,)  but  I  ain't  no  talking 
man,  so  I  '11  quit"  (Spit,  and  sat  down). 

"  Mr.  Moderator  ;"  said  Jason,  a  short  time  afterward,  rising 
in  great  haste,  and  hitting  his  knee  under  the  desk. 

"  Mr.  Chesslebury  ;"  said  Mr.  Moderator,  bowing  benignant- 
ly  to  Jason. 

Jason  had  been  so  much  encouraged  by  the  success  which 
attended  Colonel  Wiilick's  effort  that  he  immediately  deter- 
mined upon  essaying  a  speech  himself.  He  had,  indeed, 
already  risen  thrice  with  that  view,  but  had  been  each  time 
forestalled  in  his  purpose  of  obtaining  the  floor,  by  other 
speakers ;  which  was  the  occasion  of  his  present  haste.  He 
now  found  himself  somewhat  disconcerted  by  the  very  readi- 
ness with  which  the  opportunity  to  speak  was  awarded  him. 
So  he  said  again : — 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  137 

"Mr.  Moderator." 

Having  thus  made  a  fair  beginning,  he  turned  himself  partly 
around  toward  Salanda's  seat,  burst  into  a  little  laugh,  and  im- 
mediately smothered  his  face  into  a  preternatural  solemnity. 

"  I  hope,  sir,"  he  proceeded,  when  these  preliminaries  iad 
been  adjusted,  "that  you  will  excuse  my  occupying  your 
time  this  evening ;  but  I  should  like  to  contribute  my  mite 
with  the  rest.  I  don't  intend  to  say  but  little.  I  'm  not 
any  more  of  an  orator  than  Colonel  Willick,  nor  so  much, 
but  I  suppose,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  we  don't  come 
here  to  make  orations,  but  only  speeches.  So  I  should  like 
to  say  that  what  seems  to  me  is,  that  we  ought  to  do 
something  about  temperance,  as  well  as  talk  about  it.  It 's 
just  as  if  a  man  should  see  his  house  on  fire,  and  go  on  say- 
ing what  a  dreadful  thing  it  was  to  have  one's  house  on  fire, 
and  how  he  must  begin  to  put  it  out,  and  should  n't  begin  to 
bring  any  water,  or  any  thing.  Speeches  are  very  good 
things,  sir,  particularly  when  they  're  short.  But  what  we 
want  is  to  do  something  about  temperance.  We  might  sit 
here,  and  talk  and  tell  each  other  stories,  and  so  on,  all  night, 
and  have  a  good  time ;  but  the  question  is,  what  good  would 
it  do  ?" 

"  Now  what  I  move  is,  that  we  get  up  a  society.  Form  a 
temperance  society,  and  have  a  meeting  regularly  once  a  week, 
or  a  fortnight.  I  should  attend  regularly  and  I  think  most 
of  the  students  would  ; — and — and — " 

What  rock  Jason's  smoothly-gliding  speech  here  struck  upon 
— whether  he  found  himself  upon  the  very  verge  of  express- 
ing an  intention  to  bring  Salanda  and  Miss  Blossom  and 
cousin  with  the  same  regularity,  and  could  not  connectedly 

+' 


138  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

draw  back,— can  not  be  ascertained.  At  all  events  he  here 
brought  his  address  to  an  abrupt  termination,  -with  a — "  that 's 
all  I  have  to  say,  sir,"  and  took  his  seat ;  somewhat  uncertain 
whether  he  had  been  silly,  or  had  made  the  best  speech  of 
the  evening ;  and  he  scarcely  knew  whether  the  applause 
which  followed  his  effort  was  intended  in  commendation  of 
the  speech,  or  was  called  forth  by  the  dilemma  which 
hastened  its  termination. 

Deacon  Ficksom  rose.  "  He  had  been  requested,"  "  he  said, 
'  to  take  some  part  in  the  meeting,  and  he  had  come  for  that 
purpose.  He  thought  it  was  a  good  cause,  if  prudently  fol- 
lowed, and  not  overdone.  He  approved  the  zeal  of  his  young 
friend  from  the  city,  but  thought  nothing  ought  to  be  done  in 
haste.  He  supposed  there  were  a  good  many  people  who 
drank  too  much,  and  he  wished  they  would  reform.  People 
would  be  a  great  deal  better  oft'  if  they  were  only  willing  to 
spend  less  money  in  drink.  He  was  glad  that  people  were 
giving  more  attention  to  temperance.  Some  people  thought 
total  abstinence  was  the  only  remedy  for  intemperance.  There 
was  a  good  deal  of  difference  between  temperance  and  total 
abstinence.  There  was  no  need  of  drinking  so  much.  He 
was  not  prepared  to  say  that  all  drinking  of  fermented  liquors 
in  every  form  ought  to  be  given  up.  There  was  certainly  a 
difference  between  temperance  and  total  abstinence.  Temper- 
ance was  certainly  a  virtue,  the  Bible  commanded  it.  But  it 
was  hard  to  say  that  total  abstinence  was  a  duty.  St.  Paul 
himself  said,  that  we  should  '  take  a  little  wine  for  our  stomach's 
sake,  and  our  often  infirmities.' " 

Here  the  Deacon  made  a  pause  ;  he  was  not  quite  certain 
whether  he  had  quoted  the  text  aright.  He  had  an  idea,  in 


-  » 

CONE     CtTT    CORNERS.  139 

which  he  seems  to  be  supported  by  some  modern  commenta- 
tors, that  it  should  read, — "  take  often  wine  for  your  stomach's 
ache,  and  your  little  infirmities."  But  not  feeling  quite  clear 
upon  this  point,  he  proceeded. 

"  He  thought  that  the  only  means  was  moral  suasion  ;  every 
man  should  endeavor  to  persuade  his  neighbor  to  be  temper- 
ate— moderate — " 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  laughed  a  wild  voice.  "  I  say,  Deacon 
who  did  you  ever  persuade,  eh  T 

"  I  have  the  floor,  I  believe,"  said  the  Deacon. 

"  Ha !  ha  !  ha  !  who  now  ?     Tell  us." 

"Please  address  the  Chair,"  interposed  the  moderator,  tap- 
ping that  article  of  furniture  upon  the  arm. 

"  I  tell  you,"  cried  the  wild  voice,  in  still  wilder  tones,  with  no 
laughter  now,  but  with  terrible  earnestness,  "  I  tell  you  the  man 
that  talks  about  moral  suasion  to  sots  and  drunkards  is  a  fool." 

The  whole  room  buzzes  with  astonishment. 

"  Is  a  fool,"  the  voice  repeats. 

The  speaker  rose.  He  stood  somewhat  unsteadily,  leaning 
now  back  against  the  wall,  and  now  reaching  forward  in  the 
emphasis  of  his  utterance,  and  leaning  half  over  the  desk 
before  him.  His  dress  was  very  poor,  his  hair  disheveled 
and  matted,  and  the  Deacon,  turning  round  to  see  him,  recog- 
nized the  red-nosed  man  he  had  often  met  enjoying  the  hos- 
pitality of  Gregory  Donoe's  store.  The  Deacon  said  nothing, 
but  he  turned  upon  the  assembly  a  mild  but  impartial  look, 
that  seemed  to  sum  up  concisely  the  law  upon  disturbances 
of  religious  meetings,  and  to  express  the  opinion  that  a  fellow 
who  would  put  out  a  Deacon,  ought  to  be  summarily  put  out 
himself. 


140  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Moral  suasion  to  drunkards !  it 's  no  use,  and  it 's  worse 
than  no  use.  /  know  it.  I  tell  you  I  am  one  of  'em.  I  am, 
by  the  Almighty  God  I  am.  And  I  KNOW.'' 

The  whole  room  is  startled  into  perfect  silence.  In  the 
pause,  the  very  fire  seems  to  hold  its  breath. 

"I  Ve  been  a  drunkard  these  ten  years.  You  know  it 
You've  seen  me  loafing  about  your  streets  ten  yejjrs,  and 
you  Ve  had  a  chance  to  try  your  moral  suasion — and  I  ain't 
the  only  chance,  God  knows.  Yes,  and  you  Ve  tried  it,  too. 
You  know  I  used  to  want  to  knock  off.  You  have  n't  failed 
to  say  kind  words,  and  try  your  suasion.  You  all  try  it  By 
God,  the  very  man  that  sells  me  rum,  says,  when  he  pours 
me  out  a  glass,  '  Come,  come,  Jerry ;  you  'd  better  not  drink 
any  more.' " 

His  profanity  was  terrible,  but  the  equally  terrible  earnest- 
ness of  his  speech  suffered  not  even  the  Deacon  to  reprove  it. 

"  You  think  a  drunkard  needs  persuading.  There 's  not  a 
drunkard  in  the  State — that's  worth  saving — who  doesn't 
wish,  two  hours  out  of  three,  every  day  of  his  life,  that  ho 
could  knock  off.  They  Ve  got  moral  suasion.  What  they 
want  is  help  !  help  !  Good  God  !  HELP  ! — FORCE  !  FORCE  ! 
to  back  it  up. 

"  You  Ve  seen  me — you  see  me  every  day  sitting  round — 
loafing.  You  thought  I  Ve  been  asleep,  thinking  of  nothing. 
Outside  I  Ve  been  dead  as  a  heap  of  ashes.  Inside,  I  Ve  been 
a-fire ! 

"  When  a  man  's  a  going  to  sell  himself  to  the  devil,  cool 
and  easy — money  down — and  wants  to  drive  a  sharp  bargain, 
like  your  rum-sellers,  it  may  do  to  talk  of  moral  suasion  to 
him.  But  when  the  devil 's  caught  a  careless  fellow — and  's 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  141 

got  him  tight  in  his  clutches — as  he  holds  us,  and  we  writh- 
ing and  squirming,  then  when  you  come  along  and  think  we 
need  moral  suasion  to  get  us  away,  you  're  fools.  And  with 
some  of  you  it 's  worse  'n  that.  Some  of  you  know  better,  and 
when  you  say  so,  and  quote  Scripture  to  it,  you  're  damned 
fools.  /  can  see  you  're  making  the  devil's  speeches,  and  I 
believe  the  Lord's  sharper-sighted  than  I  am.  If  he  pays  any 
attention  to  what  goes  on  in  a  temperance  meeting,  he  '11  set- 
tle your  arguments  one  of  these  days.  If  God  ever  lets  any 
thing .  earthly  into  hell,  it  '11  be  rum-selling.  There  '11  be  no 
law  agin'  that  business  there,  I  tell  you.  The  devil  knows 
what  '11  pay  for  licensing,  as  well  as  you  do.  But  you  go  on 
selling  liquor,  and  talking  about  moral  suasion.  Moral  sua- 
sion !  Good  God !  if  any  body  needs  it,  it 's  your  ministers 
who  darsen't  preach  rum  down,  and  your  deacons  who  quote 
Scripture  like  a  devil's  concordance." 

The  discussion  which  followed  these  remarks  was  not  of 
that  parliamentary  character  which  can  be  well  reported. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  result  of  this  meeting  in 
other  respects,  it  at  least  wrought  a  marked  change  in  the 
position  of  Deacon  Ficksom  upon  the  temperance  question, 
and  thereafter  he  became  gradually  more  and  more  known  as 
conservative. 

He  took,  from  time  to  time,  a  more  decided  stand  against 
all  innovations  upon  all  the  old-established  liberties  of  men, 
and  raised  his  warning  voice,  upon  occasion,  against  that 
fanatical  excitement  which,  before  many  years  had  passed 
away,  began  to  agitate  society  in  Cone  Cut  Corners. 

His  enemies — the  best  of  men  have  enemies — called  him 


142  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

a  "  rummy,"  and  attributed  his  defeat,  in  the  usual  church 
election  for  deacon,  two  years  later,  by  a  two-thirds  majority, 
to  his  being  pledged  to  the  liquor  interest ; — though,  as  all 
the  world  knows,  this  disappointment  was  the  work  of  a  fan- 
atical clique,  who,  though  unsupported  by  the  real  wishes  of 
the  majority,  succeeded,  by  unscrupulous  maneuvering,  in  ob- 
taining a  temporary  supremacy. 


XIII. 


SEPTEMBEE,  1851 


UP    stairs. 
For  here  hu- 
manity depos- 
its   itself    in 
strata,  like  ge- 
ological soils,  and  the  city  grows 
upward,  aye !  and  burrows  down- 
ward, too,  as  well  as  widens  and 
extends  abroad.      _ 

Upstairs.  Dusty,  dark,  and  dingy  stairs;  well  worn  with 
many  foot-prints ;  hollowed  and  sunken  with  strange  bur- 
dens. Many  diversities  of  foot-marks  these  same  steps 
sustain.  Rough,  thick-shod  feet  tramp  heavily  up,  and  jolt 
noisily  down.  Bright  boots,  prim  and  glossy,  glance  up  and 


144  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

down.  Many  weary  little  feet,  naked  and  sore,  bearing  the 
heavy  burden  of  a  young  heart,  chilled  and  joyless  in  poverty, 
cjjmb  slowly  here.  Now  and  then  dainty,  tripping  feet  dance 
up,  bringing  a  rare  beam  of  sunshine,  and  visions  of  bright 
colors  into  staid  and  dusky-hued  places. 

Strange  diversities  of  errands,  too,  they  come  upon.  One 
listening  unseen  could  dream  the  meaning  of  their  different 
steps.  The  step  of  haste — rapid,  vigorous;  it  speaks  of 
hurried  toil,  a  mind  whirled  in  the  vortex  of  uncertain  busi- 
ness. The  step  of  leisure — growing  age  and  independence ; 
deliberate,  but  firm.  The  step  of  indolence — sauntering  in 
moody  carelessness.  The  step  of  uncertainty — wavering, 
hesitating,  stopping  to  consider,  and  starting  again  undeter- 
mined. The  step  of  poverty — gentle,  slow,  wearisome  ;  a 
hopeless  sound  is  this  step.  The  step  of  juvenility — dashing, 
delighting  in  noises  and  dusts.  The  step  of  anxiety  again ; 
nervous,  quick ;  rapidly  this  foot  hurries  away,  as  if  it  had 
not  time  to  finish  its  own  foot-pfints. 

There  are  many  tiers  of  offices  above,  and  many  froward 
feet  that  haste  to  do  evil,  run  to  and  fro  here,  and  climb 
these  stairs ;  for,  from  the  time  of  Babel,  to  these  days  in 
which  law  offices  have  ascended  into  upper  stories,  it  has 
been  observed  that  many  men  who  climb  much  toward  the 
sky,  do  not  thereby  come  nearer  heaven. 

These  profound  and  solemn  suggestions  which  rise  with  us 
upon  the  staircase,  are  by  no  means  intended  as  reflections 
upon  the  honorable  gentleman  whose  name  heads  our  chapter, 
much  less  upon  our  errand  at  his  office.  They  are  but 
the  suggestions  of  the  moralizing  and  philosophic  mind, 
fertile  in  wholesome  fruit  from  almost 


- 


CONE     CUT     COHNEUS.  145 

Passing  from  the  bead  of  the  stairs  toward  the  end  of  the 
entry,  two  steps  down  bring  us  on  a  level  with  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury's  door.  This  leads  us  into  a  low  room,  so  comfortably 
full  of  substantial  furniture,  and  so  agreeably  littered  with 
books  and  papers,  that  it  looks  snug  and  cozy,  and  almost 
small.  It  is  well-lighted  by  three  broad  windows  upon  one 
side  ;  but  the  remaining  sides  are  so  filled  and  darkened  with 
the  shelves  of  books,  the  secretary,  the  black  marble  mantle, 
and  with  the  maps  which  fill  the  spaces  of  the  wall,  that 
the  room  has  just  that  aspect  of  shaded  light  most  convenient 
and  congenial  to  an  intellectually  busy  place.  There  is  an  ob- 
long table  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  with  a  grove  .of  tall 
quills  growing  out  of  a  tub  of  an  inkstand  upon  it.  It  bears 
also  the  newspapers,  piles  of  open  letters,  and  a  few  books. 
The  seats  are  all  easy-chairs,  except  a  wooden  chair  at  a 
desk  near  the  door,  and  also  except  a  corner  of  the  table, 
which  we  may,  for  the  moment,  allude  to-  as  a  seat,  inasmuch 
as  it  affords  a  resting-place  to  the  form  of  a  young  gentleman 
of  one-and-twenty  or  thereabouts,  of  a  neglige  style  of  attire, 
and  very-much-at-home-where-I-am  manner. 

This  is  Mr.  Stretch,  the  junior  professional  gentleman  and 
the  senior  errand-boy  of  the  establishment.  Mr.  Chesslebury, 
it  is  almost  unnecessary  to  say,  is  of  course,  the  senior  profes- 
sional gentleman.  The  junior  errand-boy  is  at  this  moment 
endeavoring  to  fill  that  gentleman's  usual  seat  with  one  end 
of  his  body,  and  a  neighboring  chair  with  the  other  extrem- 
ity ;  and  thus,  in  a  position  of  considerable  practical  uneasi- 
ness, effects  great  theoretic  comfort  and  indolence. 

"Well,  John,"  said  Mr.  Stretch,  from  the  corner  of  the 
lable,  as  he  polished  his  hat  with  his  right  elbow  and  inspect- 


146  CONE     CUT     COR  NEKS. 

eel  narrowly  the  good  qualities  of  the  nap  which  were  begin- 
ning to  be  strongly  developed  by  age,  "  so  Mr.  C.  has  gone. 
Is  he  coming  back  again  ?" 

"No;"  said  John,  spitting  at  the  fire-place,  and  hitting 
the  letter  press.  "  He  said  he  was  gone  for  the  day." 

"  Aha !"  said  Mr.  Stretch,  speaking  with  much  amiability 
of  manner,  and  meanwhile,  reducing  an  incipient  dent  in  the 
top  of  his  hat  by  pressure  applied  from  within.  "  He  's  gone 
for  the  day,  is  he  ?  Well,  I  'd  hare  advised  him  to  start 
earlier  if  he  wanted  to  catch  it." 

"  John,"  added  he,  after  a  pause,  in  which  the  hat  relapsed, 
"  I  am.  going  for  the  day." 

"  You  '11  catch  it !"  retorted  the  lad  sharply,  "  never  fear 
about  that." 

Mr.  Stretch  leaned  over  and  selected  a  couple  of  the  most 
readable  newspapers  at  hand,  folded  them  deliberately  to  fit 
his  pocket,  turned  over  the  letters  on  the  table  for  a  few  mo- 
ments to  post  himself  upon  the  news  of  the  day,  which  he  in- 
dexed in  his  memory  by  saying  half  audibly  as  he  read, 
"  Pockitt  vs.  Pierce  ;  pooh,  eternal !  Pennsylvania  property 
again  ;  speculation,  eh  !  good  ;  h'm.  Mrs.  Chesslebury ;  hullo ; 
Confiden— ah!  huh!" 

"  Well !"  said  Mr.  Stretch,  after  a  short  pause,  in  which  he 
seemed  to  have  been  reviewing  his  investigations  into  the 
correspondence  of  Mr.  Chesslebury,  and  proceeding  as  he 
spoke  to  dress  his  somewhat  disorderly  hair  with  a  brush 
which  he  took  for  that  purpose  from  a  drawer  in  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury's  secretary.  "When  I  get  things  straightened  out  a 
little,  I  must  look  into  that  Pennsylvania  business.  Perhaps 
there  is  a  chance  for  ine  too." 


CONE     CUT     CORN  BUS.  147 

If  John  had  been  a  stranger  he  might  have  wondered  what 
was  the  occupation  of  a  man  who  was  devoted  to  getting 
things  straightened  out.  His  wonder  would  have  been  mis- 
spent, for  with  Mr.  Stretch  every  thing  was  crooked  and  en- 
tangled, and  needed  to  be  straightened  out.  All  his  own 
affairs,  and  all  of  other  people's  in  his  keeping  he  regarded, 
and  for  the  most  part,  indeed,  he  was  justified  in  so  doing,  as 
so  many  snarled  and  knotted  threads,  the  straightening  out 
of  which  was  the  task  he  perpetually  held  up  for  his  anticipa- 
ting industry.  Existence  itself  he  thought  sometimes  had 
some  tangle  about  it,  though  here  his  attention  was  not  much 
spent,  nor  did  he  set  himself  at  work  to  mark  the  crooked 
places  of  his  life,  or  straighten  out  himself. 

"  Well,"  asked  John,  quietly,  "  when  do  you  expect  to  get 
things  out  straight?" 

"I'm  sure  I  can't  say.;  there's  every  thing  to  be  done; 
seems  to  me  there  's  no  end  to  it.  I  say,  John,  what  does  he 
pay  you  ?" 

"  Twelve  shillings." 

"  Whole  ones  1  Ain't  any  of  'em  clipped,  or  with  holes 
in  'em  ?" 

"  It 's  the  regular  price,"  said  John,  with  some  indifference 
in  his  tone. 

"  Why,  he  could  n't  hire  a  dog  for  that,  that  knew  enough 
to  pull  a  cart." 

"  It  don't  make  any  difference  to  me,"  said  the  boy,  in  a 
careless  tone,  "but  I  used  to  make  more  than  that  in  the 
hotel  business." 

"  You  were  a  landlord,  perhaps  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Stretch,  with 
a  very  humorous  feint  of  misunderstanding  the  lad's  expression. 


148  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"Trading  in  hotels,  I  mean.  Selling  things.  I  used  to 
clear  three  or  four  dollars  a  week  sometimes.  But  father 
did  n't  like  my  being  around  so,  and  then  he  put  me  in  here, 
where  he  said  I  would  learn.  Pay  don't  make  any  difference 
to  me  either  way ;  but  you  might  as  well  expect  a  fellow  to 
grow  fat  by  standing  in  a  wholesale  flour  and  pork  store,  as 
think  I M  learn  any  thing  good  here  for  all  he  ever  says  to  me." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  the  other,  taking  a  chair,  and  speaking 
with  the  familiarity  of  a  senior  errand  boy,  though  still  retain- 
ing the  dignity  of  manner  of  the  junior  professional  man ; 
"  that 's  just  it.  Plenty  of  words  about  opportunities,  and 
contingencies,  and  prospects,  and  things  leading  to  something, 
but  devilish  little  pay.  If  any  body  should  ask  me  what  he 
pays  me,  I  should  be  ashamed  to  mention  it.  And  then  to 
say  it  is  about  the  usual  terms,  and  no  office  does  differently. 
True  enough,  but  that's  the  worst  of  it.  The  man  that  was 
here  before  me  staid  five  years  after  he  was  admitted.  He  did 
all  the  law  business  that  Chesslebury  charged  people  for,  and 
he  stuck  at  it  till  he  grew  bald,  and  then  left  only  because  they 
wouldn't  pay  him  but  five  hundred  dollars  ;  just  as  if  society 
expected  to  pay  men  just  enough  to  feed  them,  and  then  ex- 
pected them  to  go  about  to  clothe  themselves  decently  with 
opportunities,  and  to  lodge  in  contingencies,  amuse  themselves 
at  prospects,  and  improve  in  general  with  thincp  that  are 
going  to  lead  to  something.  I  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury, if  things  don't  lead  to  something  pretty  soon,  I  shall 
be  driven  to  something.'' 

Thus  apostrophizing  his  employer,  the  junior  professsiortnl 
man  rose  to  depart.  At  the  door  he  stopped  for  an  instant, 
and  ivsuming  that  easy  aud  good-humored  manner,  which  for 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  149 

a  short  time  he  had  forgotten,  he  turned,  and  said  facetiously, 
to  the  occupant  of  his  principal's  chair, — 

"  Well,  sir,  if  you  have  no  further  commands  to-day,  I  will 
bid  you  good  afternoon." 

"  None,"  said  John,  "  only  if  he  comes  in  and  should  ask 
for  you — " 

•\  «  Why  then  you  may  tell  him  that  I  have  gone — to — the 
City  Hall,  and  from  there  to  the  sheriff's  office  in  Brooklyn, 
and  shall  probably  not  be  back — until — well  say  till  six 
o'clock." 

So  saying,  he  closed  the  door  and  disappeared. 
"  Huh  !"  said  the  solitary  John,  breaking  silence  a  few  mo- 
ments after  the  departure  of  Mr.  Stretch,  and  subjugating 
another  easy  chair  with  his  right  foot  as  he  spoke,  and  draw- 
ing it  near  him  so  as  to  have  one  for  each  leg,  "  Huh !  Gone 
after  the  sheriff.  You  '11  have  a  sheriff  after  you  if  you  go  on 
this  way." 

<  '  The  ears  of  Mr.  Stretch  were  unfortunately  far  beyond  the 
reach  of  this  wholesome  caution,  he  having  reached  by  this 
time  the  sidewalk  of  Broadway.  After  some  lingering  upon 
corners,  with  that  peculiar  imcertainty  of  manner  which  be- 
tokens a  mental  indecision,  he  finally  bent  his  steps  toward 
the  Hoboken  ferry,  and  by  easy  and  agreeable  stages  arrived 
presently  at  the  Elysian  Fields,  where  some  hours  afterward 
the  last  rays  of  twilight  forsook  him,  disporting  himself  in  con- 
genial scenes. 

John,  left  triangulated  in  easy  chairs,  dismissed  Mr.  Stretch's 
complaints  from  his  mind ;  and  his  train  of  thought  which  the 
conversation  of  that  gentleman  did,  so  to  speak,  switch  off 
and  break  up,  glided  on  into  its  former  track,  whatever  that 


I 

150  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

may  have  been,  and  was  soon  again  under  full  headway.  Nor 
was  its  course  checked  until  the  strokes  of  Trinity  clock,  which 
in  the  subsiding  noise  of  the  latter  part  of  the  afternoon  be- 
came audible,  reminded  him  of  his  approaching  liberty. 


XIY. 


OCTOBER,   1851, 


MR.    CHESSLEBTTRY 
sat  in   his  office  one 
fine  morning  in    Oc- 
tober,   balancing    his 
check-book     prepara- 
tory to  calculating  how  much  to  subscribe 
to  the   capital  stock  of  the  Mintermunny 
Land  and  Timber  Company,  which  was  about  to  be  organiz- 
ed under  his  auspices,  when  his  pleasant  thoughts  were  in- 
terrupted by  a  gentle  knock  at  the  door. 

If  the  owner  of  the  impinging  knuckles  had  turned  the 
door-knob  and  walked  in  without  ceremony,  Mr.  Chesslebury 
would  have  gone  on  interpolating  a  balance  at  the  foot  of  the 
page,  so  as  to  set  down  naught  and  carry  nine  into  the  thou- 
sands' column,  and  have  left  the  visitor  to  announce  himself, 
But  a  knock  indicated  to  him  that  he  was  about  to  receive 
either  a  lady  or  an  unaccustomed  stranger.  Therefore,  under 


152  CONE     CUT     COUXEUS. 

4 

the  alternative  motives  of  gallantry  and  cariosity,  he  looked 
up  to  see  who  it  should  be. 

The  entrance  to  the  office  was  guarded  by  the  youth  John, 
who  presented,  when  on  duty,  a  sharp  and  vigilant  aspect, 
very  different  from  that  in  which  he  indulged  himself  during 
afternoon  relaxations  in  the  empty  easy  chairs.  He  seemed  to 
be  regarded  by  his  employer  in  a  strictly  legal  light,  and  as 
simply  an  infant ;  and  the  duties  assigned  to  him  were  to  do 
as  he  was  bid,  to  speak  when  he  was  spoken  to,  to  shut  the 
door  when  other  people  left  it  open,  put  every  thing  away 
that  was  left  out  of  place,  and  in,  general,  to  bear  the  burdens 
of  other  people's  delinquencies,  which  indeed,  seems  to  be  the 
lot  of  infancy  throughout  the  civilized  world. 

The  same  knock  which  stopped  a  balance  in  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury's  book  caused  a  sudden  suspension  of  the  operations  of 
the-  particular  infant  in  question,  who  then  occupied  about 
three  fifths  of  a  chair,  and  one  fourth  of  a  desk,  near  the  door, 
and  was  at  the  instant  engaged  in  engraving  his  employer's 
name  upon  a  ruler.  Upon  hearing  the  knock  he  rose,  and 
crying,  "  Come  in,"  in  a  tone  of  surprise,  pitched  so  high  that 
it  seemed  to  come  from  somewhere  in  the  ceilpg,  opened  the 
door. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Chesslebury,"  said  a  hearty,  pleasant 
young  voice. 

The  speaker  was  a  young  lad  of  about well,  in  the 

professional  eye  of  Mr.  Chesslebury,  certainly  not  yet  out  of 
his  infancy.  He  was  of  a  tall  form,  and  sufficiently  slender  to 
suggest  through  that  professional  eye  to  the  humorsome  fancy 
of  its  possessor,  that  if  infants  could  not  contract  it  was  to  be 
hoped  that  some  of  them  might  expand.  His  features  were 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  153 

small  but  expressive,  and  his  dress  substantial,  plain  and  neat. 
He  entered  uncovered,  in  token  of  respect  for  the  location ;  and 
having  got  fairly  within  the  door  turned  and  shut  it  with  great 
care,  thus  relieving  the  lad  behind  him  of  his  usual  tribute  to 
the  negligence  of  visitors. 

Mr.  Chesslebury  was  entirely  prepared,  as  the  door  opened, 
to  rise  and  come  forward  with  a  greeting  of  overwhelming 
cordiality,  if  circumstances  should  render  that  politeness  poli- 
tic. Judging  however,  with  a  glance,  and  on  the  instant,  that 
the  visitor  was  not  likely  to  be  made,  at  any  effort,  a  pur- 
chaser from  him  at  par  of  the  Mintermunny  Stock,  (on  which 
two  per  cent,  was  to  be  paid  in,)  he  merely  said,  after  an  im- 
pressive pause,  "  Ah,  Master  Bundle ;  good  morning,"  and  sat 
still  to  await  approaches. 

If  there  ever  was  a  man  who  understood  the  art  of  adapting 
his  conversation  to  his  hearers,  it  was  probably  Lafayette 
Chesslebury.  So  much  did  he  rely  upon  his  persuasive  pow- 
ers, of  which  he  considered  this  art  the  main  secret,  that  the 
only  business  to  which  he  would  address  the  professional  eye 
was  such  as  consisted  in  convincing  you  or  me,  or  some  desir- 
able subject  among  us,  that  it  was  for  our  interest  to  do  some 
very  handsome  thing  by  him.  Negotiation  was  his  occupa- 
tion. Tongue  was  his  working  stock.  Words  his  staple  man- 
ufacture. The  expenses  were  small, — the  profits  enormous. 
To  carry  a  point  with  a  large-worded  man,  he  too,  could  use 
large  words — large  sentences — large  periods  and  paragraphs, 
developing  large  views,  and  large  probabilities  of  large  re- 
sults. In  contesting  with  brief-speaking,  word-frugal  men,  he 
would  overpower  with  the  abundance  of  his  eloquence.  In 
contradicting  eloquent  men,  he  knew  how  to  set  at  naught 
7* 


154  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

their  resonance  by  little,  brief  and  pithy  words.  To  men  from 
whom  he  cared  to  hear  but  little,  he  did  set  most  infectious 
examples  of  uncommunicativeness. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  he  to  the  young  man  who  stood  waiting 
before  him,  and  he  settled  his  whiskered  chin  between  two 
graceful  points  of  collar,  and  turned  the  professional  eye  upon 
him. 

Well,  sir !  Only  two  words,  but  a  paragraph  of  mean- 
ing in  each. 

When  with  a  pleasant  falling  inflexion  of  the  voice,  he  said, 
"  Well,"  what  more  would  he  have  conveyed  to  his  young 
friend  if  he  had  said,  "  I  am  at  your  service,  sir,  be  brief,  be- 
cause time  is  precious ;  not  my  tune  in  particular ;  I  can 
afford  the  luxury  of  precious  time  ;  but  time  in  general ;  busi- 
ness time — your  time.  You  can  not  afford  it."  And  when 
with  an  agreeable  rising  inflexion  he  added  in  the  same 
breath,  "  Sir,"  what  more  would  he  have  communicated  if  lu; 
had  said,  "  Sir,  yes  sir,  sir  to  you.  Your  most  obedient,  sir. 
You  have  taken  the  liberty  to  call  upon  me,  and  I  am  of 
course  entirely  at  your  service,  sir.  What  will  you  have  ?" 

With  these  remarks  so  delicately  condensed  and  expressed 
in  two  polite  syllables,  which  he  calculated  must  impress  his 
visitor  kindly,  at  the  same  time  that  they  should  dismiss  him 
with  most  profitable  brevity,  he  closed  his  check-book  instinc- 
tively, as  if  he  felt  that  it  ought  not  to  be  generally  under- 
stood that  there  was  any  limit  to  Latayette  Chesslebury's 
account,  or  that  such  a  thing  as  a  balance  ever  needed  to  be 
ascertained  by  him.  That  laid  aside,  the  professional  eyes 
from  under  eyebrows  growing  long  and  tangled,  and  varied 
with  gray,  looked  at  Paul  Bundle. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  155 

"  And  how  is  your  mother  ?"  he  added. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a  brightening 
countenance.  "  She  is  better.  She  's  a  great  deal  better,  and 
quite  herself  again." 

"  Been  sick  ]" 

"  O  yes,  sir,  she  's  been  very  poorly.  She  was  very  low,  and 
we  were  very  sad  for  her  one  time." 

Mr.  Chesslebury  expressed  something  between  disapproval 
and  sympathy,  by  ticking  twice  with  his  tongue,  as  if  his  af- 
fection were  a  clock  that  would  go  just  two  seconds  and  no 
more. 

"  But  she 's  almost  well  now,  and  about  again  like  herself." 

The  gentleman  nodded  slowly  to  indicate  approval  of  the 
course  his  cousin  had  taken. 

"  The  doctor  said  it  was  a  slow  fever.  I  think  it  was  as 
much  as  any  thing  having  so  much  to  care  for,  and  to  do  ; 
and  then  father 's  not  being  heard  from  too.  She  can't  give 
him  up.  At  any  rate,"  pursued  the  youth,  still  standing, 
but  taking  courage  that  the  professional  eye  was  not  directed 
at  him,  "  she  was  very  low.  I  had  to  give  up  my  place  at 
Haggle  &  Change's  because  I  was  needed  at  home,  and  now 
I  could  take  hold  again  it 's  a  dull  season,  and  they  don't  need 
me.  Mother  said  I  had  better  come  and  see  you,  and  per- 
haps you  would  know  of  some  opening." 

Mr.  Chesslebury  looked  at  an  unknown  point  through,  and 
about  three  feet  beyond,  the  mantle-piece,  as  if  he  would, 
if  possible,  "pierce  the  wall  with  the  professional  eye,  and 
make  an  eligible  opening  for  the  young  man  in  the  chimney. 
No  such  opening,  however,  occurred.  And  it  appearing 
thereupon  to  him  that  the  case  was  hopeless,  he  said. — 


156  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  No." 

Paul  waited  as  long  as  it  seemed  proper  to  prolong  tlie 
silence,  and  then  commenced  to  thank  the  gentleman  for  his 
kind  attention. 

"  Well,  Paul,"  said  he,  as  the  lad  turned  to  go, "  I  am  sorry  ; 
if  I  hear  of  any  thing,  I  will  let  you  know." 

"  I  heg  pardon,"  said  Paul,  stopping,  "  but  would  you  have 
any  objection  to  my  referring  to  you.  If  I  ever  should  find  a 
place,"  he  added,  rather  sadly,  "  it  might  be  of  great  use  to 
me  to  mention  it." 

"  Oh  !  none  at  all,"  replied  Mr.  Chesslebury,  as  if  he  felt 
himself  good  for  any  amount  of  respectability,  and  was  ready 
to  honor  his  young  friend's  drafts  in  that  currency*  to  an  un- 
limited extent. 

Paul  Bundle  withdrew. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  as  if  he  had 
come  thither  as  a  last  resort,  and  there  was  no  other  place  for 
him  to  go  to.  Presently  he  moved  mechanically,  and  then 
hastening,  as  if  suddenly  awakened  from  forgetfulness,  he  was 
rushing  down  the  stairs,  when,  at  the  bottom,  he  came  forci- 
bly into  the  arms  of  some  one  else,  who  came  around  the 
door-post  as  suddenly  as  he  had  descended. 

"  Why,  Paul,  halloo !"  said  a  voice. 

"  Ah,  Jason,  how  do  you  do  1  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  hope 
I  have  n't  hurt  you." 

"  No,  but  you  might  have  killed  somebody  by  running 
over  them  in  the  street,  if  I  had  n't  stopped  you.  Where 
now  in  a  hurry  ?" 

"  Home,  I  believe,"  said  Paul. 

"  Good,"  cried  Jason.     "  I  must  go,  too.     I  have  only  got 


CONE     CUT    COIIXEUS.  157 

back  this  very  day,  but  I  must  go  and  see  your  mother  and 
Susie.  How  do  they  do  ?" 

Then  Paul  said  how  they  did,  and  from  one  thing  to  an- 
other the  conversation  ran  on,  until  Jason  had  asked  all  that 
his  father,  a  few  minutes  before,  had  listened  to,  and  much 
more  beside.  Jason  found  how  Paul  had  held  his  former 
place  by  working  day  and  night;  how  it  took  him  till  ten  or 
eleven  to  distribute  the  purchases  of  the  day ;  how  he  could 
not  often  reach  home  before  midnight ;  how  Susie  could  not 
take  care  of  the  shop  and  of  mother  all  day,  and  then  watch 
with  mother  till  midnight,  too ;  how  disappointed  he  had 
been  to  have  to  give  up  his  place  just  before  the  year  was  out, 
and  lose  the  prospect  of  increasing  Avages  and  better  position, 
which  was,  after  all,  the  real  compensation  in  view  in  many 
months'  hard  work.  Then  Jason  learned  for  the  first  time, 
that  father  had  gone  away,  and  ascertained,  from  unwilling 
answers,  what  he  had  before  conjectured,  that  father  had  been 
unfortunate,  not  in  his  work  particularly ;  perhaps  in  his 
company  and  his  habits ;  and  that  he  had  not  done  well,  and 
had  got  into  trouble;  that  he  had  left  home  a  long  time 
ago,  and  had  never  written  yet  a  line.  And  first  and  last,* 
Jason  realized  how  anxious  was  Paul  for  occupation,  and 
how  important  to  mother  and  sister  it  was  that  he  should 
have  it. 

Arm  in  arm  they  walked  up  the  Bowery,  and  a  handsome 
pair  they  were. 

Miss  Helen  Chesslebury,  in  the  Chesslebury  carriage,  re- 
turning from  a  morning  call  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  city, 
passed  the  young  men. 

"  Oh,   dear,"  pouted  the  charming  young  lady,  "  there  's 


158  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Jason  with  that  fellow,  the  first  thing.     Why,  he  acts  just  as 
if  that  shop-boy  was  his  brother." 

Alas !  my  dear  Miss  Chesslebury,  how  true.  What  a  mis- 
take. Just  as  if  he  were  his  brother.  Oh,  dear  !  What  good 
can  be  anticipated  from  a  young  man  who  acts  just  as  if  a 
shop-boy  were  his  brother. 


XV. 


SEPTEMBER,  1851. 


MRS.  MARGARET  RUN- 
DLE  kept  a  thread,  nee- 
dle, and  fancy  store  in 
Grand-street. 

We  are  bound  in  can- 
dor to  inform  the  genteel 
reader  who  may  peruse 
this  chapter  in  some 
rural  district  far  from 
the  noise  and  bustle  of 

the  city,  that  Grand-street  is  by  no  means  so  grand  a  street 
as  might  be  supposed.  For  New  York  is  a  city  of  great 
self-contradiction.  It  is  related  in  ancient  chronicles,  that  in 
the  beginning,  when  the  Adams  of  that  respectable  metropo- 
lis were  assembled  to  name  the  places  then  newly  under 
their  dominion,  and  had  with  great  study  and  research  pre- 


160  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

pared  a  list  of  names  applicable  to  streets,  parks,  squares, 
buildings,  it  was  the  Genius  of  Discord,  standing  near,  who 
volunteered  to  assort  these  names  and  apply  them  appro- 
priately ;  and  the  unsophisticated  New  Yorkers  accepting  the 
proposal,  she  proceeded  to  execute  the  commission  in  most 
characteristic  style. 

And  thus,  oh,  genteel  reader,  you  may  start  from  the  foot  of 
Manhattan  Island,  from  the  very  toe  thereof,  indeed,  where 
stands  Castle  Garden, — so  called  it  would  seem,  because  it 
long  since  ceased  to  be  a  castle,  and  can  never  be  a  garden  ; 
and  traveling  up  through  the  heart  of  the  city,  you  shall  cross 
the  Battery,  that  most  hospitable  and  peaceful  rurality,  where 
are  neither  enemy  to  batter,  nor  ordnance  to  batter  with ; — 
and  pass  the  Bowling-Green,  where  no  man  plays  at  bowls  ; — 
and  thence  journeying  up  Broadway,  by  no  means  so  broad  as 
many  other  ways,  you  shall  pass  "Wall-street,  whose  ancient 
wall,  built  by  the  Dutch  to  keep  out  marauding  Yankees,  has 
long  since  crumbled, — Canal  street,  whose  name  is  but  the 
epitaph  of  a  canal  a  long  time  dead  and  buried, — Xiblo's  Gar- 
den, stuffed  as  full  as  it  can  hold  with  a  hotel  and  an  opera- 
house,  holding  no  beds  except  in  the  chambers  of  the  first,  nor 
flowers  save  those  thrown  upon  the  stage  of  the  second, — and 
Union  Square,  which  is  round ; — and  thence  as  much  farther 
as  you  please,  but  always  with  a  like  experience.  After  this 
trip  you  will  not  be  surprised  on  entering  Grand-street  to  find 
it  what  it  is ;  a  modest,  substantial,  respectable  street,  with 
plain,  economical  houses  in  some  parts,  and  neat  shops  crowd- 
ed with  low-priced  goods  in  others ; — an  excellent  street,  a 
most  unimpeachable  street ;  but  with  no  pretension  to  be  the 
grand-street  of  New  York. 


CONE    CUT    CORNERS.  161 

From  the  Bowery  and  the  observation  of  Miss  Helen  Chessle- 
bury,  the  young  men  passed  into  Grand-street,  such  as  Grand- 
street  is,  and  passing  eastward  through  a  long  vista  of  stores 
of  various  kinds,  they  came  upon  the  little  shop  of  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet Bundle.  Standing  close  under  the  shadow  of  the  flaunt- 
ing breadths  of  gay  calicoes  and  high  piles  of  flannels  and 
sheetings  which  adorned  significantly  the  front  of  a  great  dry- 
goods  establishment,  it  looked  all  the  smaller  in  its  contrast 
with  its  next-door  neighbor.  It  was  a  very  modest  little  place. 
It  was,  therefore,  (or,  if  you  prefer,  oh,  genteel  reader,  we  will 
say,  notwithstanding,)  a  very  charming  little  place.  The  shop 
was  a  little  room,  and  it  was  not  entirely  a  shop  either,  but 
had  a  family-sitting  room  air.  Since  the  family  seemed  to 
consist  of  a  very  genial-looking  woman  who  was  comfortably 
disposed  in  a  rocking-chair  at  the  end  of  the  counter,  bal- 
anced upon  the  other  side  of  the  room  by  a  very  charminir- 
looking  young  girl  seated  and  industriously  employed  at  a 
work-table  in  the  corner,  the  domestic  aspect  of  the  room  will 
not,  perhaps,  be  deemed  objectionable.  Between  the  seats  of 
the  tvro  occupants,  was  the  back  door  of  the  shop,  leading 
into  a  little  back  room.  On  the  very  delightful  day  in  which 
Jason  had  the  pleasure  to  visit  this  place,  this  door  was  open, 
and  revealed  a  bright  little  retreat,  its  floor  carpeted  in  the 
same  style  with  the  shop,  and  its  open  windows  curtained, 
within  with  spotless  white,  without,  with  festooned  and  waving 
green,  through  which  he  caught  bright  glimpses  of  sun-light. 

"Mother,"  cried  Paul,  cheerily,  as  they  entered,  "mother, 
and  Susie  !  here 's  cousin  Jason." 

In  his  pleasure  in  bringing  his  friend,  he  forgot,  for  the 
moment,  his  sorrow  in  bringing  a  disappointment. 


162  CONff    CTT    CORNERS. 

At  the  first  sound  of  her  brother's  voice,  Susie  sprang  for- 
ward, and,  asserting  her  sisterly  privilege,  regardless  of  Jason, 
that  modest  young  gentleman  looked  away,  and  took  occasion 
to  greet  particularly  the  elder  lady.  Mrs.  Bundle  in  words 
and  tone  expressed  all  kindly,  and  respectful  affection,  but 
Jason  observed  that  she  made  no  effort  to  rise  from  her  chair ; 
and  he  saw  many  lines  of  care  and  anxiety  quite  new  to  him 
in  that  pleasant  face. 

"And  Susie,"  said  he,  turning  again  to  her,  "how  do 
you  do  ?" 

"  Oh !  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Cousin  Jason,"  she  said  in 
a  frank,  musical  voice,  extending  a  hand  whose  beauty  was 
undisfigured  by  gilded  trinkets. 

Greetings  were  cordial ;  and  the  conversation  was  uncheck- 
ed until,  in  the  usual  course  of  mutual  congratulations,  Susie 
was  suddenly  silenced  by  her  cousin's  observing  that  she  had 
wonderfully  improved,  and  grown  quite  handsome ;  and  Jason 
himself,  in  turn,  was  as  completely  extinguished  a  moment 
after,  by  being  told  by  Mrs.  Bundle  that  he  looked  very  like 
his  father,  and  was  quite  a  man  himself  now. 

Jason,  naturally  feeling  a  little  embarrassed  after  so  long  an 
absence,  and  now,  doubly  so,  by  consciousness  of  change,  was 
at  a  loss  for  conversation,  until  he  bethought  himself  of  his 
need  of  a  pair  of  gloves.  He  thereupon  requested  of  Susie 
that  she  would  do  him  the  kindness  to  sell  him  a  pair. 
That  young  lady  consented  to  do  so  upon  condition  of  being 
allowed  to  mend  the  old  ones.  This  understanding  being 
had,  the  young  people  proceeded  to  the  counter  to  accomplish 
that  business  transaction. 

"  Cousin  Jason,"  said  Susie,  after  a  short  silence,  raising  her 


CONE    CUT    CORNERS.  163 

blue  eyes  from  the  box  of  gloves  between  them,  and  speaking 
with  a  smile,  "  I  don't  think  you  are  a  bit  changed." 

"  Cousin  Susie,"  returned  Jason,  "  you  are  the  same  Susie 
you  always  were,  after  all." 

It  was  strange  how  much  time  the  business  transaction  took 
after  this.  First  there  was  an  endless  discussion  about  the 
color ;  and  then  a  careful  examination  of  seams,  which  Susie 
insisted  upon,  and  then  a  long,  long  trouble  about  trying 
them  on,  which  Jason  insisted  upon,  and  a  spirited  contest 
about  who  should  be  allowed  to  put  away  the  boxes,  which 
both  insisted  upon ;  which  contest  resulted  in  a  sudden  bump- 
ing of  heads,  and  a  great  deal  of  laughter ;  and  then  at  last, 
the  purchase  being  finally  consummated,  Jason  found  the  sub- 
ject exhausted.  Then  he  made  Paul  promise  to  come  to  the 
office  next  noon  to  meet  him  to  form  further  plans,  and  bade 
Mrs.  Bundle  good  afternoon,  and  Susie  good  afternoon  too, 
and  went  out,  and  came  back  again  in  two  minutes  to 
know  when  he  should  come  to  get  the  gloves  that  were  left  to 
be  mended,  and  then  finally  disappeared  and  went  home. 

Paul  then,  in  answer  to  his  mother's  request,  detailed  the 
fruitless  searches  of  the  day ;  how  he  had  scanned  every  news- 
paper, which  indeed  he  had  done  every  morning  for  a  fort- 
night, in  hopes  of  finding  an  advertisement  for  a  boy;  how  at 
last  he  met  one,  and  hastened  to  apply  for  the  place ;  how  he 
found,  when  he  reached  the  counting-house,  that  nearly  twenty 
were  there  before  him;  how  there  were  little  fellows  there 
who  could  neither  write  nor  read,  almost  lost  among  the 
larger  boys,  and  apparently  quite  dismayed  in  the  crowd ; 
how  there  were  ragged  boys  with  their  caps  on,  and  neat, 
spruce-looking  boys  with  their  caps  off,  and  showing  nicely- 


164  CONE    CUT    CORXEKS. 

brushed  hair,  wet  and  sleek;  how  there  were  stout-looking 
young  men  making  themselves  as  short  and  juvenile  as  pos- 
'  sible,  in  the  hope  that  they  might  be  taken  for  boys ;  and 
how  there  was  even  one  old  man  with  thin  light  hair  and 
very  poor  clothes,  who  stood  a  little  apart  from  the  crowd, 
and  kept  bowing  whenever  the  merchant's  eye  was  turned 
toward  him.  But  Paul  did  not  tell  all  the  story  then.  It  was 
not  until  evening,  and  when  they  were  alone,  that  Paul's 
mother  asked  him  what  the  merchant  said  to  him ;  and  then 
he  replied  with  tears  in  his  eyes : — 

"He  made  us  all  come  in  a  row  one  after  another,  and 
when  he  came  to  me,  he  stopped  me  and  said,  '  I  like  your 
looks' ;  and  he  asked  me  if  I  lived  with  my  parents,  and  I 
told  him  yes,  that  was,  with  my  mother,  and  where  we  lived, 
and  he  said  was  my  father  living,  and  I  told  him  yes  I  be- 
lieved so,  and  he  said  where  Avas  he,  and  I  told  him  I  did  n't 
know.  Then  he  said,  '  Oho  !  that  won't  do,'  and  that  I  might 
go ;  and  the  boys  all  looked  at  me  as  I  came  away.  Oh  ! 
mother,"  sobbed  Paul  as  he  finished,  "  I  thought  that  if  I  ever 
should  touch  a  drop  of  drink,  I  hoped  God  would  curse  me, 
as  I  knew  he  should." 

With  this  bitter  pledge  revolving  in  his  mind,  Paul  went  to 
sleep  that  night. 

That  evening,  at  about  the  same  time  that  the  unhappv 
Paul  was  endeavoring  to  get  to  sleep,  the  magnificent  Mr. 
Chesslebury  was  trying  as  laboriously  if  not  as  successfully,  to 
keep  awake.  He  was  sitting  in  the  private  parlor  of  the 
Chesslebury  mansion,  ensconsced  in  a  many-jointed  easy  chair, 
and  appeared  as  comfortable  as  a  man  could  who  seemed  to 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  165 

have  his  head  in  the  stocks,  and  was  wearing  a  white  Mar- 
seilles strait  waistcoat.  It  was  early  in  the  evening,  that  is  to 
say  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  he  was  waiting  the  completion 
of  Mrs.  Chesslebury's  toilet  for  a  party.  The  carriage,  which 
had  just  brought  Jason  and  his  sisters  from  the  opera,  was  at 
the  door,  and  the  coachman  upon  the  box  without,  was  grow- 
ing nearly  as  sleepy  as  his  master  within. 

In  the  interval  which  elapsed  between  the  arrival  of  the 
young  people  and  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  Jason 
roused  his  father  with  the  proposal  that  Paul  should  be 
offered  a  place  in  the  office.  To  this  Mr.  Chesslebury  de- 
murred, upon  the  ground  of  unnecessary  expense. 

"  But  why  can't  you  arrange  it  in  some  way  1  You  said 
John  was  going  to  leave  to  go  to  school.  Paul  will  do  a 
great  deal  more  than  he,  I  know." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  his  father. 

"  Well  now,  why  can't  you  take  him  ?"  urged  the  son. 

"  Well,"  said  his  father,  "  I  should  like  to  do  something 
handsome  for  Paul." 

"  Father,"  said  Jason,  after  a  pause,  "  what  were  you  going 
to  give  for  that  pony  for  me  ?" 

"I  do  not  know;  whatever  a  good  one  costs.  Crupper 
said  I  could  n't  have  what  we  want  short  of  three  hundred 
dollars." 

"  And  what  will  it  cost  to  keep  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  '11  go  right  into  the  stable  with  the  other  horses." 

"  But  it  will  cost  something  more  to  keep  four  horses  than 
three  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  father,  "  I  presume,  doctor's  bills  and  all, 
it  would  come  near  two  hundred  dollars  a  year  additional." 


166  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Would  it  ?  Well  father,  I  'd  rather  have  Paul  than  the 
pony,  so  you  can  afford  to  have  him  now,  can't  you  ?" 

"  Ha  lf  we  could  n't  afford  to  pay  so  much  for  a  boy." 

"  Why,  certainly,  father,  if  I  give  up  the  pony,  you  can." 

"  Oh,  no !  that  makes  no  difference.  We  can  not  expect 
to  give  so  much  for  a  boy." 

"  Why  not,  does  n't  he  work  as  hard  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  but  then  we  can  not  afford  to  pay  so  much  for 
boys,  because  there  are  plenty  of  them,  and  we  can  get  them 
cheaper." 

"  Well,"  said  Jason,  "  whatever  he  is  worth,  you  can  give 
him.  Now  please  send  for  him  to-morrow; — before  some- 
body else  engages  him,"  added  the  lad,  with  intended  sharp- 
ness, worthy  of  his  parent. 

Here  entered  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  arrayed  in  gay  attire — in 
very  gay  attire — -in  fact,  in  attire  calculated  to  be  several 
hundreds  of  dollars  gayer  than  the  attire  of  any  one  whom 
she  might  chance  to  meet  that  evening.  It  was  with  this 
sole  view  that  Mrs.  Chesslebury  had  been  got  up  for  that 
occasion  with  great  care  and  labor,  and  without  regard  to  ex- 
pense, except  that  regard  which  consists  in  making  the  ex- 
pense as  large  as  possible.  If  Mrs.  Chesslebury  proves  more 
expensive  to-night  than  Mrs.  Stuccuppe,  then  Mrs.  Chessle- 
bury is  a  triumph,  and  the  family  name  shines  in  her  splen- 
dor. If  not,  then  Mrs.  Chesslebury  is  a  failure,  and  the  family 
name  is  eclipsed. 

A  perfumed  breeze  bearing  down  upon  us,  announces  her 
approach,  and  a  rustling  proclaims  her  presence.  It  is  a  rust- 
ling, not  as  of  an  uneasy  motion,  but  a  still  rustle  ;  she  rustles 
as  she  stands,  like  a  wild  poplar-tree  in  a  perfectly  calm  day. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  167 

without  apparent  cause  or  reason ;  she  rustles  all  over,  around, 
under  and  through. 

In  the  light  of  this  rustling  splendor,  Mr.  Chesslebury  de- 
parts for  an  evening  of  pleasure,  from  which  he  succeeds  in 
tearing  himself  and  Mrs.  Chesslebury  triumphant,  at  the  early 
hour  of  three  o'clock.  Strange  to  say,  although  they  went 
and  returned  in  a  coach,  Mrs.  Chesslebury  enters  the  mansion 
in  the  full  possession  and  exercise  of  her  rustling  powers. 

In  the  morning  at  breakfast,  Mr.  Chesslebury  was  reminded 
by  his  son  of  his  compact ;  much  to  the  diversion  of  the  young 
ladies,  who  charged  their  brother  with  proclivities  toward 
jockey  ism,  for  having  swapped  animals  before  he  had  bought 
the  first  one. 

True  to  his  word,  the  father  sent  for  Paul  that  morning, 
and  in  an  exordium  of  some  length  and  vagueness,  he  gave 
him  to  understand  that  he  had  long  been  intending  to  do 
something  handsome  by  him,  and  he  impressed  very  strongly 
upon  his  juvenile  mind,  grounds  of  great  gratitude. 

"  The  time  seems  now  to  have  arrived,"  said  that  gentle- 
man, spreading  out  his  sentiments  in  a  confidential  tone,  and 
pinning  them  down  with  sharp  glances  of  the  professional 
eye, — "  the  time  has  now  arrived,  I  believe,  for  me  to  accom- 
plish something.  Circumstances  now  place  it  in  my  power 
to  offer  you  arrangements  which,  if  consummated  upon  your 
part,  will,  I  doubt  not,  be  highly  advantageous  to  one,  who 
like  you,  knows  how  to  profit  by  all  the  privileges  of  such  a 
position,  and  in  this  relation,  I  have  no  doubt  that  things  will 
lead  to  something.  I  am  confident  that  things  may  be  made 
to  lead  to  something  very  important ;  in  fact,  things  can't 
help  leading  to  something ;  and  this  to  a  young  man,  is  of 


168  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

great  advantage.  You  would  here  have  many  conditions  of 
improvement  which  can  not  be  expected  elsewhere,  and  you 
would  be  thrown  among  men  of  importance  and  high  charac- 
ter, and  in  fact,  in  your  capacity  of  messenger,  you  would 
often  enjoy  the  opportunity  of  calling  upon  men  of  position 
and  standing,  whose  acquaintance  would  be  most  valuable, 
and  things  I  have  no  doubt  will  lead  to  something,  which,  if 
not  immediately  and  pecuniarily  remunerative,  yet  would 
be  of  far  greater  and  higher  importance." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Paul,  to  fill  a  pause. 

"  I  have  no  hesitation,"  pursued  Mr.  Chesslebury,  "  in  saying 
that  I  think  you  would  succeed  admirably ;  you  would  have 
much  to  learn  ;  and  that  is  the  great  advantage  that  there  is 
so  much  that  can  be  learned  ;  here  are  books  and  papers  and 
— and  all  that  is  calculated  to  lead  to  something  eventually. 
Indeed,"  concluded  he,  "  I  hardly  know  what  the  arrangement, 
if  consummated  and  operating  successfully,  might  not  lead  to. 
It  opens  before  you — before  any  young  man  who  may  enter 
•  upon  it,  a  wide  field,  a  new  field,  of  thought — and  informa- 
tion— and  influence — and  business — and  indeed  all  those  in- 
numerable sources  of  success  which,  if  rightly  and  perseveringly 
pursued,  can  not  fail  ultimately  and  finally  to  lead  to  something 
of  one  kind  or  another  inestimably  valuable  to  a  young  man." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Paul,  with  a  general  feeling  of  grati- 
tude and  admiration. 

Mr.  Chesslebury  received  these  words  silently.  He  was 
estimating  the  amount  which  could  be  reasonably  deducted 
from  the  usual  salary,  on  account  of  circumstances  that  were 
going  to  "  lead  to  something." 

Paul  was  mercenarily  thinking  of  wages  too.     It  seeme«l  a 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  1G9 

delicate  topic,  and  not  exactly  the  thing  to  speak  of  in  con- 
nection with  the  enjoyment  of  pastoral  fields  of  study  and 
shepherd-like  circumstances. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  think  longer  of  it,"  asked  Mr. 
Chesslebury. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  answered  Paul,  "  I  should  like  to  know 
what  wages  you  would  like  to  give." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  gentleman,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  he  had  not 
thought  of  in  this  connection,  "  wages  !  Ah  !  You  have  never 
been  in  an  office  before,  I  think  ?" 

"  No,  sir/' 

"  Well,  I  suppose  under  the  circumstances," — commenced 
the  gentleman, — "  however,  in  common  offices  "they  pay  some- 
times one  hundred  dollars  a  year,  for  the  first  year.  You 
would  here  have,  as  I  have  said,  many  unusual  circumstances 
which  I  might  claim  should  qualify  the  question,  but  I  want 
to  make  a  most  liberal  and  handsome  arrangement,  and  that 
amount,  under  all  the  circumstances,  I  should  be  very  glad  to 
pay  you." 

But  just  here  Mr.  Stretch  coming  forward  from  his  seat, 
interrupted  with  a  question  about  some  matters  he  was  en- 
deavoring to  get  straightened  out.  Whether  he  did  this  out 
of  commiseration  for  the  fly,  or  of  grudge  to  the  spider,  he 
succeeded  in  quite  interrupting  Mr.  Chesslebury's  negotiation. 
The  things  that  were  in  hand  of  Mr.  Stretch  to  be  straightened 
out,  were  considered  by  Mr.  Chesslebury  as  things  that  might 
lead  to  something,  and  our  young  friend  Paul  was  dismissed 
to  consider  and  reply  at  leisure  Avhether  he  would  like  to  have 
something  very  handsome  done  by  him,  with  a  gratuity  thrown 
in  of  one  hundred  dollars  a  year. 
8 


170  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

That  night  Paul  made  long  and  repeated  calculations  as  to 
how  mother  could  make  out  to  meet  expenses,  if  he  were  not 
earning  full  wages,  and  convinced  himself  unwillingly  again 
and  again,  that  by  no  marshaling  of  figures  and  management 
of  estimates,  could  they  support  themselves  unless  he  earned 
at  least  four  dollars  a  week.  He  was  therefore  compelled  to 
make  up  his  mind  to  commit  the  ungrateful  politeness  of  de- 
clining Mr.  Chesslebury's  offer.  This  he  did  in  a  short  note, 
which  he  left  early  the  next  morning  in  the  hands  of  the  in- 
fant John  at  the  office  door. 

John  looked  at  the  note  and  the  bearer  with  curiosity,  and 
said,  "  Are  you  coming  in  here  T' 

"  No,"  returned  Paul. 

"  Good,"  said  the  infant,  shutting  the  door. 

That  evening  Mr.  Stretch,  in  his  usual  review  of  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury's correspondence,  picked  Paul's  note  from  the  waste- 
paper  basket,  where  it  lay  crumpled  up.  He  straightened  it, 
out  with  great  care,  and  read  it ;  and  as  he  read  it,  he  said, — 

«  Good." 


XVI. 

OCTOBER,    1851. 


THE  next  morning,  Paul 
Rundle,  looking  as  was 
his  wont  in  the  columns 
of  WANTS  in  the  morn- 
ing paper,  in  the  hope 
that  somebody  wanted 
him,  found  the  following 
advertisement : 

"  WANTED,  a  lad  to  tend 
store  and  run  of  errands. 

He  must  come  well  recommended ;  must  be  steady,  active, 
quick  at  figures,  a  good  penman,  understand  accounts,  and  be 
a  judge  of  money,  and  must  be  able  and  willing  to  make  him- 
self .generally  useful.  To  such  an  one  a  good  place  will  be 


172  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

given,  with  a  prospect  of  advance.  The  best  of  reference  will 
be  required.  Wages,  four  dollars  a  week.  Apply  to  Baggie- 
hall,  Floric  &  Co.)"3l7  Broadway." 

Immediately  after  breakfast — and  Paul  took  his  breakfast  be- 
fore Mrs.  Stuccuppe's  supper  things  had  been  cleared  away — 
Paul  started  for  Bagglehall,  Floric  &  Go's.,  to  answer  the 
advertisement.  If  we  should  say  that  Messrs.  Bagglehall, 
Floric  &  Co.,  kept  a  grocery  and  liquor  store,  we  should  do 
them  injustice.  If  we  should  say  that  they  were  wholesale 
and  retail  dealers  in  family  groceries,  and  in  foreign  and 
domestic  wines,  we  should  say  exactly  what  their  sign  did'. 

The  store  contrasted  strongly  with  its  next-door  neighbor, 
Haggle  &  Change's.  The  latter  was  fresh  and  flashy ;  the 
former  Avas  old  and  dingy.  The  one  delighted  in  huge  show- 
windows  as  transparent  as  a  vacuum,  brightly-polished  coun- 
ters, and  carefully  swept  floors ;  the  other  in  cobwebs,  and  a 
certain  dust  of  an  eminently  wholesome  appearance.  The  one 
was  new  and  genteel ;  the  other  old  and  respectable.  The 
one  resembled  its  ribbons ;  the  other  its  cheese.  It  was  an 
inconveniently  crowded  store  too,  was  Bagglehall,  Floric  &  Go's. 
Only  at  night,  when  it  was  carefully  shut  up,  could  it  contain 
its  contents.  As  soon  as  it  was  opened  in  the  morning,  they 
overflowed  upon  the  sidewalk,  and  there  stood  all  day  long. 
It  was  so  crowded  full  of  barrels,  and  boxes,  and  baskets,  and 
bags,  piled  up  every  where  to  the  very  ceiling,  in  every  pass- 
age-way but  one,  against  every  door  but  one,  darkening  every 
window  but  one,  that  half  way  down  the  counter,  where  the 
book-keeper's  desk  stood,  a  candle  was  necessary  to  give  the 
spiders  light  to  work  by.  Just  behind  this  desk  was  the 
darkest  possible  pair  of  stairs.  They  were  effectually  walled 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  173 

in  from  outside  gaze  by  baskets  and  boxes ; — baskets  ob- 
long like  a  coffin ;  baskets  bottle-necked  like  a  demijohn  ; 
baskets  full  and  baskets  empty,  baskets  covered  and  baskets 
open  ; — with  boxes  too ;  round  boxes  and  oblong  boxes,  and 
many  square  boxes  containing,  as  an  algebraic  inscription, 
XXX,  upon  their  labels,  indicated,  unknown  quantities  of  ale 
and  porter. 

As  Paul  entered  the  store,  a  man  whose  sandy  whiskers 
looked  like  a  dilapidated  hearth-brush  came  up  the  stairs. 
He  had  a  gray  checked  cap  upon  his  head,  and  wore  an  apron 
which  was  heavy  and  stiff  with  dark  stains  of  fluids,  semi- 
fluids  and  solids ;  and  in  each  hand  he  held  a  long-necked 
bottle,  covered  with  dust  and  cobwebs. 

"  Hi !"  said  he,  holding  one  up  between  his  finger  and 
thumb  by  the  very  tip  of  its  neck ;  "  Hi !  the  spiders  know 
what 's  good, — they  do.  They  know  where  it  is.  They  can't 
get  in,  but  they  hang  around  it.  Talk  about  animals  not  hav- 
ing reason.  You  never  saw  a  fly  down  in  that  cellar,  did 
you  ?  What  do  you  suppose  the  spiders  are  so  thick  there 
for  1  They  know  what 's  there,  they  do.  Instinct  ?  Non- 
sense !  I  say,  ain't  it  fine  ?" 

"  It  is  handsome,  and  no  mistake,"  conceded  the  gentleman 
who  was  standing  behind  the  dim  candle,  writing  at  the  dark 
desk.  As  he  spoke,  he  looked  up  from  his  accounts,  and  held 
the  candle  close  behind  the  bottle. 

"  Handsome  ?'  echoed  the  other.  "  Ain't  it,  though  ?  Talk 
of  the  fine  arts.  There  ain't  any  thing,  according .  to  my  eye, 
in  the  fine  arts  as  handsome  as  that.  It 's  real  regular  genu- 
ine, and  no  mistake,  that  is.  It 's  the  real  Symington  eigh teen- 
twenty." 


174  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  his  companion,  "  you  M  better  keep  that 
story  for  customers,  you  know.  It 's  too  good  to  bo  wasted." 

*'  Practice,"  responded  the  other ;  "  it 's  good  practice." 

"  "Well,  you  need  n't  practice  on  me,"  returned  the  clerk. 
"  You  may  be  practitioner,  but  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  '11  be  pa- 
tient Well!" 

This  last  was  addressed  with  some  sharpness  to  Paul,  who 
had  advanced  to  the  counter,  and  there  stood  waiting  for  a 
pause  in  the  conversation. 

"  I  called,  sir,  in  answer  to  an  advertisement  in  this  morn- 
ing's— " 

"  Back  room,"  interrupted  the  clerk,  erecting  his  right  fore- 
arm upon  the  desk,  into  a  finger-post  for  Paul's  guidance. 
He  then  dropped  his  pen  into  the  inkstand,  wiped  it  on  his 
hair  to  dispose  of  superfluous  ink,  and  went  on  with  his 
writing. 

Paul  followed  the  direction  of  the  finger-post,  and  went 
back  to  a  little  counting-room,  divided  off  from  the  rest  of  the 
store  by  a  thin  partition,  partly  glass.  In  this  counting-room 
were  a  green  safe,  a  high  desk,  a  stool  to  match,  an  easy-chair, 
and  an  empty  fire-place.  Upon  the  mantle  over  the  fireplace, 
there  were  a  row  of  dingy  bottles,  a  box  of  cigars,  and  a  pair 
of  feet.  The  feet  were,  by  a  pair  of  chunky  legs,  apparently 
connected  with  something  in  the  easy-chair.  This  something, 
whatever  it  was,  was  completely  hid  by  a  large  newspaper 
interposed  between  the  easy-chair  and  the  fireplace,  and  be- 
neath which  the  legs  disappeared.  As  the  door  opened,  the 
newspaper  dropped  and  disclosed  to  the  view  of  Paul  a  per- 
fectly round  head,  a  crooked  nose,  and  a  very  large  vest. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  the  vest.    The  voice  proceeded  ap- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  175 

patently  from  the  vest,  which  moved  quite  as  much  as  the 
lips  in  the  utterance. 

"  I  called,  sir,"  said  Paul,  "  in  answer  to  an  advertisement 
which  appeared  in  this  morning's  Sun." 

"  Yes  !  yes !"  replied  the  vest.  "  Take  a  seat ;  take  a 
seat."  The  legs  moved  the  feet  from  the  mantle  to  the  floor, 
and  turned  the  vest  round  in  its  chair  more  toward  the  young 
man.  "  Yes !  yes  !  take  a  seat." 

There  being  no  other  seat  in  the  room  than  the  high 
stool,  Paul  declined  the  handsome  offer  of  such  promotion, 
and  stood  up. 

"  What  name  ?" 

Paul  told  his  name,  and  then,  in  answer  to  further  inquiries 
by  the  occupant  of  the  easy-chair,  told  him  where  he  lived 
and  who  his  mother  was,  and  that  his  father  was  away ;  but 
where  or  how  he  did  not  say ;  and  how  it  happened  that  he 
had  now  no  situation,  and  whom  he  was  with  last.  And  he 
gave  him  a  specimen  of  his  handwriting,  and  did  a  sum  in 
mental  arithmetic  so  quickly,  that  the  round  head  had  not  the 
least  idea  whether  it  was  accurate  or  not,  or  how  it  was  done, 
though  it  nodded  approvingly  at  the  prompt  answer  when  it 
was  announced. 

Paul  also  then  learned  that  the  round  head,  and  the  crooked 
nose,  and  the  large  vest,  were  all  the  property  of  Mr.  Floric, 
the  junior  partner  of  the  firm  of  Bagglehall,  Floric  &  Co.,  and 
that  what  the  firm  wanted  was,  according  to  the  tenor  of  the 
junior  partner's  conversation,  a  young  man  of  good  mental 
abilities  to  help  keep  the  books  and  attend  to  the  accounts, 
and  a  young  gentleman  of  pleasing  address  to  help  tend  the 
counter  and  to  be  assistant  salesman,  and  an  able-bodied  light 


- 
176  CONK     CUT     CORNERS. 

porter,  to  help  get  out  and  pack  the  goods,  and  a  young  man 
of  some  acquaintance  with  horses,  who  was  an  experienced 
and  careful  driver,  to  drive  one  of  the  wagons  in  an  emerg- 
ency, and  a  person  of  strict  integrity  to  fulfill  the  pecuniary 
trusts  of  the  place,  and  a  small  boy  to  run  of  errands  and 
make  himself  generally  useful ;  and  that  they  were  only  will- 
ing to  pay  for  the  small  boy  to  run  of  errands,  and  expected 
the  assistant  book-keeper,  and  the  assistant  salesman,  and  the 
assistant  light  porter,  and  the  assistant  driver,  and  the  young 
man  of  strict  integrity,  all  to  throw  themselves  in.  To  the 
contract,  as  thus  defined,  Paul  expressed  his  willingness  to  ac- 
cede, and  desired  then  and  there  to  take  hold  and  commence 
work. 

"  At  least,  sir,",  said  he,  "  I  can  try  it  for  to-day,  and  if  I 
succeed  to  your  satisfaction,  I  can  go  on  ;  if  not,  why — " 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Floric,  to  whom  this  proposal  seemed  un- 
objectionable, "  say  you  try  it  for  to-day.  Hold  on  though,  a 
minute.  The  best  of  references  required.  Bagglehall  was 
particular  about  the  references." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Paul,  "  I  can  refer  you  to  Mr.  Haggle, 
next  door,  or  to  Mr.  Change — " 

"  H'm,"  said  Mr.  Floric,  somewhat  doubtfully. 

" — and  to  the  Honorable  Mr.  Chesslebury." 

"  Lafayette  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Floric, 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Paul.  "  He  's  a  relation  of  ours,  sir,  my 
mother's  cousin.  He  offered  me  a  situation  as  errand-boy  in 
his  office,  sir,  but  the  salary  was  so  low  ;  the  advantages  for 
study,  and  improvement,  and  acquaintance,  and  those  things 
you  know,  sir,  he  said  were  so  great  that  the  salary  had  to  be 
low,  and  I  could  n't  possibly  get  along  with  it,  for  I  have  to 


CONE     OUT     CORNERS.  177 

support  myself,  so  I  could  n't  take  the  place,  though  I  wanted 
to  very  much.  But  though  he  could  n't  get  me  a  situation, 
lie  said  that  if  his  name  would  be  of  any  use  to  me  I  should 
be  welcome  to  refer  to  him." 

"  Lafayette  Chesslebury  all  over,"  said  Mr.  Floric,  slapping 
his  hand  upon  his  knee,  while  an  audible  chuckle  agitated  the 
surface  of  the  large  vest.  Probably  Paul's  astonishment  at 
this  irreverent  treatment  of  the  name  of  his  august  relative, 
was  apparent  in  his  countenance,  for  Mr.  Floric  added : 

"  So  he  's  your  mother's  cousin,  is  he  ?  That 's  consider- 
able honor  to  start  with,  my  boy.  Hococks  !" 

The  man  with  the  hearth-brush  whiskers  made  his  appear- 
ance in  obedience  to  this  summons.  To  him  Paul  was  intro- 
duced as  "  young  Rundle,  who  had  applied  for  the  situation, 
and  who  was  to  take  hold  and  see  what  he  could  do." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  said  Hococks. 

"  He  can  take  right  hold  and  help  you  get  out  that  order 
for — for  Mr.— for — what's-his-name,  there,  you  know  up  on 
Washington  Square."  This,  with  a  nod  of  the  round  head 
expressing  great  intelligence,  and  a  wink  which  wrinkled  the 
crooked  nose  into  an  expression  of  great  mystery,  and  a  sim- 
ultaneous point  of  the  thumb  toward  Paul.  Seeing  all  mys- 
tery and  no  intelligence  reflected  in  the  countenance  of  Ho- 
cocks, the  partner  took  that  man  out  to  one  side,  just  be- 
yond distinct  ear-shot  of  Paul,  where  he  was  heard  to  speak, 
interspersed  among  other  words,  the  following,  "  family — 
smart  boy — sharp — keep  dark — no  hurry — on  trial — the  busi- 
ness." 

From  this  interview,  in  which  the  gray  checked  cap  and 
hearth-brush  whiskers  were  seen  to  nod  a  great  many  times, 


178  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

Mr.  Hococks  came  forth,  regarding  Paul  with  great  attention 
and  curiosity,  much  to  the  confusion  of  that  somewhat 
modest  candidate  for  employment  in  the  respectable  estab- 
lishment. Then,  guided  by  Mr.  Hococks  and  a  dun  candle, 
Paul  descended  the  cellar  stairs  into  the  subterranean  vaults 
of  the  store.  Thanks  to  the  candle,  the  cellar  was  not  per- 
fectly dark.  There  was,  it  is  true,  glimmering  through  the 
grating  in  the  side-walk,  which  formed  the  roof  of  the  other 
end  of  the  cellar,  a  little  dingy  light,  but  it  seemed  like  little 
more  than  the  shadow  of  twilight,  and  merely  sufficed  to 
make  the  darkness  look  respectable.  Paul  could  therefore  see 
very  little,  until  the  candle,  groping  its  way  to  one  side,  set 
the  catching  example  of  combustion  to  a  gas-burner,  over  a 
rough  bench  against  the  wall,  and  immediately  the  grating 
and  the  candle  were  eclipsed  with  a  flood  of  light.  Then  he 
saw  rubbish  of  every  respectable  description ;  fragments  of 
old  boxes,  pieces  of  baskets,  hoops,  piles  of  musty  bags,  old 
brooms,  heaps  of  broken  bottles,  bins  of  coal,  empty  barrels, 
and  a  pile  of  staves  looking  like  an  admirable  throw  of  mag- 
nified jackstraws. 

Casting  hasty  glances  at  these  features  of  the  place,  which 
were  mostly  distributed  in  the  darkest  end  of  the  cellar,  Paul 
followed  his  guide  to  the  bench.  Stored  in  racks  upon  one 
side  were  bottles  of  all  sizes  and  sorts,  and  in  great  quantities. 
Wine  bottles  by  the  hundred  ;  London  brown  stout  and  pale 
India  ale  bottles  by  the  gross ;  Champagne  bottles  by  the 
thousand;  all  empty,  bright,  and  clean.  On  the  other  side 
was  a  row  of  hogsheads  raised  on  a  little  platform,  with  their 
faucets  all  in  a  lice. 

"Now,"  said  Mr.  Hococks,  producing  a  crumpled  memo- 


•».  CONE    CUT    CORNERS  179 

randum  from  the  gray  cap,  and  smoothing  it  out  upon  the 
rough  bench,  "  we  have  got  a  uice  order  to  fill.  First  we  '11 
take  the  South  Side  Madeira — I  think.  Now  Bob,  we  Ve  got 
to  make  up  two  dozen  real  old  South  Side  East  India.  Them's 
the  bottles,  that  kind — no,"  said  he,  with  his  hand  on  the 
rack,  suddenly  interrupting  himself,  "  that  ain't  the  kind. 
We  have  n't  got  one  of  those  English  bottles  left." 

In  great  apparent  consternation  the  man  ran  to  the  foot  of 
the  stairs  and  called  for  Mr.  Floric.  That  gentleman  came  to 
the  cellar  door,  but  being  of  a  person  not  adapted  to  running 
up  and  down  stairs  as  an  amusement,  he  stood  there  and  re- 
sponded to  the  call,  peering  down  the  stairway,  and  shouting : 

"  What 's  the  row  ?" 

"I  say,  sir,"  replied  Hococks,  in  a  loud  under-tone,  "we 
have  'nt  got  any  of  those  English  Madeira  bottles.  He  wants 
two  dozen,  and  we  have  'nt  got  any  left ;  not  an  individual 
bottle." 

Mr.  Floric  looked  up  to  see  who  might  be  around  in  a 
position  to  listen,  and  looked  down  again  and  said, — 

"  The  devil,  Hococks." 

Mr.  Hococks  did  not  notice  the  apposition,  but  continued. 

"  I  sent  down  to  the  Drinkwater  House  yesterday,  but  they 
hadn't  any  empty  yet.  They're  to  have  a  dinner-party  to- 
morrow, and  we  can  have  plenty  the  day  after,  but  that  won't 
do,  I  suppose.  Mr. — um — he 's  very  particular  about  his 
bottles." 

"  Fact !"  assented  Mr.  Floric. 

"  And  if  we  send  up  wrong  bottles  he  '11  make  difficulty." 

"Precisely,"  said  Mr.  Floric.  "Can't  you  get  'em  at 
Puzzling's  Hotel?" 


180  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  No  !   they  supply  Waters  &  Bungole." 

"  So  they  do.  Stf  they  do,"  nodded  Mr.  Floric.  "  Have 
you  got  any  paper  labels  left  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  responded  Hococks. 

"  "Well,  you  '11  have  to  use  them." 

"  What  bottles  ?"  persisted  Mr.  Hococks. 

"Oh!"  cried  Mr.  Floric,  "I  have  it.  Stuccuppe  sent  down 
a  lot  this  morning,  just  the  thing ;  what  we  sent  his  last 
sherry  in  ;  they  're  at  the  back-door  now.  They  are  plain  ; 
they  '11  do  for  any  heavy  wine." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Hococks,  in  a  tone  of  great  belief. 

"  When  you  make  that  up,  Hococks,"  added  Mr.  Floric, 
"  put  in  a  .  little  more  brandy.  The  last  we  sent  him  he 
thought  was  not  so  good  a  body  as  he  'd  been  used  to.  His 
taste  is  getting  that  way.  Put  in  a  little  more  brandy." 

In  accordance  with  these  instructions,  Paul,  who  began  to 
comprehend  the  art  before  him,  was  set  at  work  to  clean  the 
empty  bottles  sent  down  from  Mr.  Stuccuppe's  ;  and  he  won- 
dered occasionally  who  it  was  that  was  to  be  accommodated 
with  them  next,  whose  eye  for  bottles  was  so  sharp,  and 
whose  taste  for  the  contents  so  delicately  sensitive. 

Mr.  Hococks  meanwhile  calculated,  according  to  the  arith- 
metic of  the  respectable  dealers,  that  in  the  usage  of  trade  it 
would  take  just  one  dozen  and  six  quarts  to  fill  two  dozen 
quart  bottles.  Then  he  brought  forth  from  under  the  bench 
a  large  tin  can  which  he  cleaned  by  a  whiff  of  his  handker- 
chief, a  puff  with  his  breath  and  a  shake  with  his  hands. 
Placing  this  under  a  faucet  which  stood  first  and  foremost  in 
the  long  line  of  faucets,  but  which  was  not  connected  with  any 
hogshead,  he  laid  the  foundation  for  the  South  Side  Madeira, 


CONE     CUT     CORKERS.  181 

in  about  five  quarts,  measured  by  the  eye,  of  pure,' or  nearly 
pure,  Croton  Avater.  To  this  he  added  from  a  large  hogshead, 
which  contained  the  Madeira  of  the  trade,  about  a  dozen 
quarts,  drawn  in  a  gallon  measure,  with  a  little  over,  thrown 
in  by  way  of  giving  himself  a  margin  for  tasting.  Then 
he  lifted  the  can  upon  the  bench,  and  sat  down  by  the  side 
of  it  to  reflect. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Mr.  Hococks,  in  'meditation, 
felt  any  compunctions  at  having  diluted  the  liquid  called  Ma- 
deira. There  Avas  no  ground  for  any  such  feeling.  Rather 
for  satisfaction.  For  the  history  of  the  old  South  Side  of 
eighteen-twenty,  and  of  East  Indian  memory,  was  somewhat 
as  follows. 

Not  quite  two  years  since,  a  dirty  crew  of  naked  natives, 
jumping  up  and  down,  with  songs,  in  the  wine-vats  of  the 
south  side  of  the  Island  of  Madeira,  crushed  with  their  feet 
the  over-ripe  and  bursting  grapes ;  and  as  the  juice  and  pulp 
squirted  from  under  the  soles  of  their  dancing  feet,  and  spirted 
up  between  their  brown  toes,  and  spattered  upon  their  brawny 
thighs,  they  sang  the  louder  and  danced  the  faster,  until  the 
perspiration,  starting  in  large  drops,  rolled  down  their  hirsute 
legs,  mingling  with  spatterings  of  grape,  and  was  finally  rub- 
bed off  into  the  vat  by  the  hands  of  the  retiring  laborers ; 
and  thus  was  accomplished,  at  a  very  early  period,  the  first  di- 
lution of  the  pure  juice  of  the  grape.  Thence  undergoing 
many  equally  pleasant  courses  of  treatment,  the  final  result 
was  strengthened  with  brandy  to  enable  the  same 'to  endure 
well  the  voyage,  and  by  an  imaginary  trip  to  the  East  Indies, 
came  quickly  to  London,  and  there  was  entered  safely  in 
bond. 


. 

182  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Not  even  here,  however,  though  safe  under  government 
care  and  surveillance,  did  its  history  end.  For  here  by  virtue 
of  the  authority  of  those  convenient  ordinances  of  the  British 
Government,  known  as  Treasury  Order,  20th  of  May,  1830, 
Treasury  Order,  20th  of  June,  1830,  and  other  like  wholesome 
regulations,  it  was  mixed  again  with  not  over  twenty  per  cent, 
of  brandy  and  with  other  wines,  also  Madeira  so  called,  ad 
libitum,  then  and  there  also  in  bond ;  and  thence,  having 
been  racked  into  other  casks,  was  brought  into  the  city  of 
New  York,  where  it  appeared  by  the  oath  of  the  respectable 
dealers,  who  imported  it,  (and  who  subsequently  made  a 
profit  on  it  by  expanding  it  into  thirteen  hogsheads  out  of  a 
dozen,)  that  its  original  and  true  cost  to  them  was  48i  cents 
a  gallon.  Coming  from  them  into  the  hands  of  Messrs  Baggie- 
hall,  Floric  <fe  Co.,  they  surely  did  it  no  harm  in  adding  what 
they  fairly  could  to  its  quantity,  since  they  could  not  injure 
its  purity. 

At  any  rate,  so  Mr.  Hococks  thought,  and  made  no  scru- 
ples in  doing  so.  His  next  proceeding  was  to  add  a  few  drops 
of  some  pleasant  preparations  contained  in  certain  phials  con- 
veniently kept  in  a  shelf  above  the  bench,  the  effects  of  which 
were  supposed  to  be  in  every  way  the  same  as  thirty  years  of 
age  and  a  real  voyage  to  the  East  Indies.  Lastly  he  drew  a 
quart  of  brandy  and  proceeded  deliberately  to  work  the  mix- 
ture up  to  the  standard  of  the  customer's  taste.  When  he 
had  arrived  so  near  success  as  to  seem  entirely  doubtful  about 
it,  and  had  balanced  many  spoonfuls  upon  his  tongue  in  long 
hesitation,  he  got  up  and  rinsed  his  mouth  thoroughly  with 
cold  water.  He  then  returned  to  his  experiments,  and,  mak- 
ing one  more  addition,  pronounced  it  as  good  as  it  need  be. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  183 

"  But  I  hate,"  said  he,  "  to  get  up  these  things  in  a  hurry. 
I  ought  to  have  time  to  it,  and  let  'em  stand,  and  ripen." 

By  this  time  the  bottles  were  ready,  and  he  instructed  Paul 
in  which  box  to  find  the  labels  with  the  right  name  upon 
them,  and  in  which  box  he  would  find  the  corks  with  the  same 
name  branded  on  the  end.  Then  he  went  up  Stan's  with  a 
wine-glass,  opaque  with  respectable  dirt,  and  filled  with  the 
fine  old  South  Side  Maderia  of  1820  of  East  Indian  ex- 
periences, to  be  tasted  and  approved  by  one  of  the  respecta- 
ble dealers. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  the  two  dozen  bottles  were 
filled,  corked,  sealed,  labeled,  and  dusted  with  a  highly  re- 
spectable dust,  until  they  presented  that  artistic  and  admirable 
appearance  which  was  so  pleasing  to  the  cultivated  eye  of  Mr. 
Hococks.  When  they  had  been  finally  arranged  in  two  bask- 
ets, they  were  carried  up  into  daylight ;  wThere  the  old  South 
Side  Madeira  was  presented — as  one  might  almost  say — in 
the  original  packages  of  importation,  to  the  critical  approving 
scrutiny  of  Mr.  Floric. 

In  the  counting-room,  this  commodity  was  charged  to  ac- 
count of  the  customer  who  ordered  it,  at  the  low  price  of 
twenty  dollars  the  dozen ;  a  very  insignificant  advance  upon 
cost,  it  must  be  confessed,  when  we  take  into  account  the  skill 
and  care  expended  by  the  respectable  dealers,  to  bring  it  into 
its  present  excellent  condition — to  say  nothing  of  the  trouble 
of  getting  up  foreign  corks  and  labels,  at  home. 

During  the  day  too,  a  great  many  bottles  of  champagne  were 
got  up  by  the  simple  and  ingenious  process  of  aggravating 
cider  into  effervescence  by  sugar  of  lead,  and  forcing  it,  with  a 
cork  after  it,  through  a  machine  into  each  bottle.  Lastly  Mr. 


184  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Hococks,  after  bringing  out  a  great  many  demijohns  of  various 
sizes,  and  filling  them  with  various  combinations  of  the  con- 
tents of  hogsheads,  phials  and  water-faucet,  checked  off  the 
last  item  on  the  crumpled  memorandum,  and  said  that  job 
was  done. 

Paul  that  night  was  much  gratified  at  receiving  the  appro- 
bation of  Mr.  Floric,  and  the  patronizing  approval  of  Mr. 
Hococks ;  and  was  still  more  pleased  when  the  former  called 
him  into  the  counting-room  and  told  him  to  come  again  to- 
morrow. Still  as  he  went  home,  and  as  he  lay  awake  that 
night,  he  found  it  very  hard  to  decide  whether  he  should  ac- 
cept a  situation  in  the  house  of  Bagglehall,  Floric  &  Co., 
Respectable  Dealers. 


XVII. 

OCTOBER,    1851. 


THE  Chesslebury  mansion  is  all  alive  to-day  with  busy 
preparations.  Externally  the  house  has  a  demure  and  muffled 
aspect  "by  reason  of  carefully  closed  blinds  ;  but  within  it  is  as 
busy  as  an  ant-hill.  For  it  was  last  week  announced  to  the 
world  of  fashion,  by  the  broadest  card  of  the  season,  that  Mrs. 
Chesslebury  will  be  at  home  this  evening ;  and  crowds  are 
expected  to  look  in,  to  witness  that  rare  domestic  event. 

It  seems  as  if  all  the  vehicles  that  pass  through  the  street 


186  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

stop  to  pay  a  tribute  to  the  busy  mansion.  Now  it  is  a  car- 
riage whose  footman  leaves  a  card ;  or  a  baker's  cart  deposit- 
ing a  basket.  Now  a  milkman,  who  sits  and  ladles  out  a 
great  many  drops  into  the  servant's  pitcher,  measuring  by  his 
own  convenient  rule  that  two  gill  dippers  make  a  quart. 
And  now  comes  the  wagon  from  Bagglehall,  Floric  &  Go's., 
with  many  baskets  and,  brown  paper  parcels  and  twine-laced 
bags,  and  many  more  demijohns — large  demijohns — small 
demijohns — medium  demijohns — all  with  diminutive  tickets 
tied  to  their  necks,  like  so  many  carrier-pigeons  on  duty. 
These  must  be  messengers  of  some  importance,  too  ;  for  Avhen 
the  driver  telling  his  horse  to  stand — the  facetious  fellow! 
hands  these  in  at  the  basement  door,  the  gentlemanly-dressed 
young  man  stands  there  to  receive  them  affectionately,  and 
pays  them  great  regard.  He  condescends  too,  to  bestow  a  re- 
cognition even  upon  the  plebeian  driver,  although  he  has  no 
attention  for  baker's  baskets,  and  no  consciousness  of  milk- 
men. Now,  the  last  demijohn  handed  in,  and  its  message 
read  with  interest,  he  says,  with  a  tone  of  some  concern,  "Is 
this  all  ?" 

And  the  facetious  driver  answers  concisely,  "  No !  'nother 
load — long  necks ;"  and  makes  a  pop  with  his  mouth,  and 
jumps  into  his  swinging  wagon,  and  undertakes  the  task  of 
countermanding  the  order  to  stand,  and  at  last  succeeds,  and 
is  whirled  away  by  an  unexpected  start.  His  departure  is  fol- 
lowed by  other  arrivals  which  have  no  charm  for  the  gentle- 
manly-dressed young  man.  In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
again  comes  the  facetious  driver,  his  easy  wagon  this  time 
packed  with  trunk-shaped  baskets,  like  a  freight  crate.  One 
after  another  these  are  handed  in,  each  one  a  good  lift  for  the 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  187 

driver,  and  are  deposited,  under  the  delighted  eye  of  Wilson, 
upon  the  entry  floor,  where  they  count  two  dozen  baskets,  all 
told ;  and  thence,  under  the  supervision  of  that  gentleman, 
they  are  subsequently  removed  to  the  secret  and  subterranean 
recesses  of  the  Chesslebury  mansion. 

Later  in  the  afternoon,  the  gentlemanly-dressed  young  man 
having  put  on  a  little  cap,  jauntily  took  a  broom,  as  another 
gentleman  would  take  a  cane,  and  sallied  forth  to  enjoy  the 
air  and  gentle  exercise  by  a  lounge  upon  the  sidewalk.  It  should 
not  for  a  moment  have  been  supposed  that  this  movement  had 
any  thing  to  do  with  the  straws  with  which  the  champagne- 
baskets  had  marked  their  track  from  the  curb-stone  to  the 
area  door  ;  indeed,  he  would  have  at  once  resented  the  insinu- 
ation. He  promenaded  gently  before  the  house,  the  broom 
following  him  upon  the  pavement  ;  much  in  the  same  style 
as  he  had  observed  the  elder  Miss  Chesslebury  to  walk  with  a 
live  canine  skeleton,  called  a  grayhound,  induced  to  loco- 
motion by  a  blue  ribbon.  In  the  midst  of  this  pleasant 
recreation,  seeing  a  gentleman  acquaintance  in  the  distance, 
he  abandoned  even  this  remote  semblance  of  activity,  and 
composed  himself  to  a  leisurely  position  against  a  tree-box,  in 
which  he  might  haVe  passed  for  a  remarkably  life-like  statue 
of  Laziness.  The  person  approaching  was  no  other  than  Mr. 
Sagory  St.  Julien,  the  gentlemanly  superintendent  of  the 
culinary  department  in  Mrs.  Stuccuppe's  domestic  establish- 
ment. These  two  gentlemen  being  in  similar  positions  of 
trust  in  the  highest  circle  of  the  metropolis,  of  course  often 
met,  and,  moreover,  were  upon  much  the  same  terms  with 
each  other  as  their  mistresses;  familiarly  intimate  and 
friendly,  but  sharp-eyed  rivals. 


188  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Aha !"  Mr.  "Wilson,  said  the  Stuccuppe  retainer.  "  You 
have  cards  out  for  this  evening." 

"  Oh !  only  a  quiet  little  affair,"  returned  Mr.  "Wilson. 
"  Our  eldest's  wedding,  only.  There  '11  be  a  few  here.  Only 
two  dozen  baskets  of  champagne.  There  '11  be  a  few  partic- 
ular friends.  We  should  be  happy  to  see  you,  Sagory. 
Look  in  about  twelve.  They  '11  be  pretty  well  along  then,  in 
the  evening,  up-stairs,  and  we  can  amuse  ourselves.  It  won't 
do  to  have  any  of  that  two  dozen  left  over.  Eh  1  Will  it  T' 

With  a  nod  of  assent,  and  a  smile  of  understanding,  the 
gentlemen  separated  for  the  time.  Mr.  Wilson  was  com- 
placent in  having  extended  the  hospitalities  of  the  occasion 
to  that  perfect  gentleman,  Mr.  Sagory  St.  Julien.  The  latter 
was  well  satisfied  to  secure  so  easily  what  had  been  his 
object  in  happening  by ;  and  promised  himself  a  good  time 
for  the  evening,  and  an  insight  into  the  Chesslebury  econ- 
omies, which  should  afford  him  means  of  some  amusement 
and  much  instruction  thereafter. 

The  wedding  of  "  our  eldest,"  as  Wilson  somewhat  pater- 
nally described  Miss  Helen  Chesslebury,  took  place  at  the 
church  at  six,  and  an  hour  afterward  the  family  carriages 
drove  up  to  the  family  mansion,  and  the  family  party  flitted 
up  the  broad  steps,  and  crossed  the  family  threshold,  to  the 
great  interest  and  excitement  of  so  much  of  the  world  as  hap- 
pened to  be  within  eye-shot. 

Ten  o'clock  began  to  bring  company.  Then  came  bustle 
and  business ;  noise  of  wheels  and  horses'  feet,  and  slamming- 
carriage  doors  without.  The  rustle  and  rush  of  entering  vis- 
itors in  the  hall,  and  on  the  stairs  within  ;  running  xip  stairs 
and  running  down.  Gentlemen  loiter  while  their  ladies 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  ISO 

linger  over  the  last  touches  in  their  toilets,  in  the  respective 
retiring  rooms ;  and  then  at  concerted  signal,  enter  and  are 
announced.  A  momentary  and  partial  silence,  a  general  in- 
spection of  the  new  comers,  then  the  buzz  of  conversation 
closes  over  them,  and  they  are  lost  in  the  crowd. 

Mrs.  Chesslebury  is  in  her  glory — in  all  her  glory.  In  a 
glory  twofold  exceeding  all  previous  glory.  A  glory  of  satin 
and  blonde.  A  glory  of  ribbons  and  laces.  A  glory  of 
fashion  in  amplitude  of  rustling  skirts,  louder  and  more  inces- 
sant than  ever.  A  moral  glory  in  heroic  triumph  over  a 
bodice  smaller  than  the  most  sanguine  dress-maker  could 
have  hoped  her  to  wear.  A  golden  glory  of  pins,  chains, 
bracelets,  and  a  broad  sparkling  zone,  around  the  impossible 
bodice.  A  curious  glory  of  a  dress  as  much  too  long  for 
convenience  at  the  bottom  as  it  is  too  short  for  appearances  at 
the  top.  And  a  halo  of  general  and  promiscuous  and  in- 
describable glory  upon  her  fashionable  head,  of  feathers,  laces, 
costly  flowers,  and  no  doubt  equally  costly  curls,  composing  a 
crowning  glory,  which  well  rewards  that  head  for  all  its  pains. 
In  all  this  glory  the  Honorable  Mrs.  Chesslebury  shines  and 
sparkles  with  redoubled  intensity  as  she  receives,  and  greets, 
and  welcomes,  Mrs.  Stuccuppe.  For  she  has  had  the  advan- 
tage of  that  lady  to-night  in  being  able  to  dress  further 
toward  destruction  to  remain  at  home,  than  Mrs.  Stuccuppe 
possibly  could,  leaving  a  margin  of  life  and  breath  to  ride  to 
and  fro. 

But  this  is  not  all.  There  is  another  lens  which  magnifies 
Mrs.  Chesslebury's  glory,  and  which  makes  her  a  perfect 
Fresnel  light  upon  the  apex  of  the  social  promontory.  Mrs. 
Stuccuppe  has  not  been  so  fortunate  in  her  daughter.?.  The 


190  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

eldest  has  not  been  married  at  all,  nor  seems  she  like  to  be ; 
and  the  second  has  recently  taken  it  into  her  head,  the  crazy 
girl,  to  take  tip  with  a  young  teacher,  a  mere  schoolmaster, 
a  regular  pedagogue,  upon  our  word,  with  nothing  but  brains, 
and  those  all  squandered  on  children.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  eldest  Miss  Chesslebury  that  was,  is  to-night  Mrs. 
Livingston  Sharstock,  and  Mr.  Livingston  Sharstock  has 
every  thing  but  brains — of  that  he  has  no  need ;  and  Miss 
Frederica  is  now  Miss  Chesslebury.  There  are  three  hun- 
dred people  here  to-night,  headed  by  Mrs.  Stuccuppe  herself, 
to  witness  the  triumph.  And  so  the  glory  shines. 

And  there  stands  Mrs.  Livingston  Sharstock,  dressed  all  in 
white,  in  spotless  and  unqualified  white,  delicate,  dazzling,  flow- 
ing white,  like  an  angel,  as  she  undeniably  is.  One  of  those 
angels  who  run  through  their  career  as  such  before  they  leave 
this  earth,  and  are  seen  no  more  in  that  character  forever. 

Of  the  three  hundred  here,  some  are  real  friends,  and  hero 
for  friendship ;  more  are  curious,  and  here  as  spectators ; 
others  rivals,  and  here  only  to  be  envious  ;  many  are  foolish, 
and  here  as  a  capital  chance  to  be  silly ;  and  a  few — young 
men  principally — are  hungry,  and  attend  because  they  know 
that  "  Lady  Chesslebury's  oysters  and  champagne  are  first- 
rate."  These  last  perhaps  are  the  most  easily  and  thoroughly 
satisfied  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

"  I  say,  Livingston,"  says  Mr.  Chesslebury  to  his  son-in-law, 
with  unusual  familiarity,  as  they  were  in  the  crowd  and  crush 
of  the  supper-room,  and  surrounded  by  the  pop  and  sparkle 
of  Champagne,  "  I  say,  have  you  heard  of  this  most  extraor- 
dinary thing  they  are  doing  down  in  Maine  ?" 

"  No,  rearly,  sir,  I  have  not,"  drawls  Mr.  Sharstock,  who, 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  191 

in  fact,  lias  heard  of  nothing  for  some  time  but  his  wedding, 
and  does  not  really  understand  that  phenomenon  yet.  "  ]S"o, 
rearly,  sir,  I  have  not ;  where  is  it,  sir  ?" 

Mr.  Chesslebury  bends  the  professional  eye  upon  one  or  two 
around  him,  to  fix  their  attention  and  make  the  conversation 
more  general ;  and  this  is*  but  a  symptom  of  the  confusion  of 
his  mind  in  the  confusion  of  the  scene,  and  surrounded  by  the 
pop  and  sparkle  of  Champagne.  Nevertheless,  regardless  of 
the  noise  of  nigh  three  hundred  plates  and  three  hundred 
spoons  and  three  hundred  mouths  making  merry  over  three 
hundred  glasses,  except  to  raise  his  rich  and  husky  voice 
above  the  ordinary  conversation  tone,  he  proceeded. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he,  "  the  State  of  Maine  has  done  a  most 
extraordinary  thing.  It  is  a  thing  which  I  have  no  hesitation 
in  saying  is  quite  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  legislation. 
They  have  just  passed  a  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  wines  or 
liquors  of  any  kind,  under  severe  penalties ;  so  that  hereafter 
there  is  nothing  to  be  drank  in  Maine  except  cold  water — and 
warm  water.  Yes,"  reiterated  he,  swaying  gently  in  an  ora- 
torical style  as  he  spoke,  "  a  most  extraordinary  thing." 

"  Why,  ridiculous,  rearly  !" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury ;  "  at  the  instigation  of 
some  fanatical  fellow,  they  have  actually  passed  a  law  which 
is  to  put  an  end  to  all  drinking." 

"  'T  would  be  a  joke  if  they  should  keep  it,"  replied  Mr. 
Sharstock,  filling  his  glass  again,  and  laughing  at  the  idea  of 
such  a  joke. 

"  Most  undoubtedly,"  continued  the  first  speaker,  "  it  is  an 
unconstitutional  law,  and  can  not  stand  the  ordeal  of  judicial 
test.  But  I  have  no  doubt  there  are  people  so  mad  with 


192  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

these  ideas  of  temperance  as  to  think  a  similar  law  will  be 
passed  here." 

The  family  physician,  Dr.  Newsham,  was,  as  it  happened, 
standing  at  the  other  side  of  the  table,  and  just  opposite  his 
patron,  at  this  juncture  of  the  conversation,  and  it  so  hap- 
pened that  he,  being  interested — painfully  interested,  of  course 
— in  all  the  symptoms  of  any  of  the  ills  of  which  flesh  and 
blood  are  residuary  legatees,  was  just  observing  a  heightened 
color  in  Mr.  Chesslebury's  nose,  and  being  at  a  little  distance, 
was  putting  on  his  spectacles  to  examine  more  closely  the 
little  red  ramifications  which  formed  a  net-work  over  it  like 
the  veins  upon  one  of  his  own  anatomical  preparations. 

"  Now,  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury,  catching  his  gaze  as 
an  index  of  attention  to  the  conversation,  and  turning  toward 
him  as  he  spoke  the  very  point  under  the  Doctors  examina- 
tion, "  now  Doctor,  look  at  it ;  look  at  it." 

The  Doctor  certainly  was  looking  at  it. 

"What  is  to  be  done,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Chesslebury, 
"  when  such  laws  are  enacted  ?  They  are  sumptuary.  They 
are  sumptuary  laws,  sir.  Laws  which  attempt  to  direct  our 
eating  and  prescribe  our  drinking,  and,  by  ^natural  conse- 
quence, to  regulate  our  digestion,  which  can  not  be." 

"  Why,  no,"  assented  the  Doctor. 

-"  Certain! j  not !  How  can  it  be  !  How  are  laws  going  to 
regulate  digestion  ?" 

"  'T  would  be  ar  joke  if  they  could,"  drawled  Mr.  Sharstock, 
who  would  have  rather  liked  the  idea  if  some  gentle  legisla- 
tion could  have  been  substituted  for  his  daily  dinner  pill. 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  physician,  "  that  law  seems  uncon- 
stitutional." 


CONK     CUT     CORNERS.  193 

''  I  think  not,  sir,"  said  a  young  man  who  stood  near,  and 
had  listened  with  some  interest  in  silence  hitherto.  "  Have 
you  read  the  Maine  law  ?"  This  question  was  politely  put  to 
Mr.  Chesslebury. 

" No"  confessed  that  gentleman. 

"  It  has  been  held  repeatedly,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a 
modest  but  confident  air,  "  that  a  State  has  the  right,  under  the 
constitution,  to  regulate,  and,  if  it  sees  fit,  to  prohibit,  a  traffic 
within  its  own  borders,  which  is  injurious  to  public  welfare." 

"  Xo,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury,  recovering  from  his  astonish- 
ment at  finding  there  was  a  fanatic  in  his  family  mansion,  "  no, 
sir,  I  have  got  the  documents.  You  can  have  a  restraining 
law,  but  you  can  not  have  a  prohibitory  law.  You  can  not  have 
a  prohibitory  law,  sir  !  I  have  the  documents  myself,  sir." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  returned  the  young  man,  "  we  can,  and  do 
have  prohibitory  laws.  The  general  government  itself  has  en- 
acted, and  is  enforcing  such.  There  have  long  existed  laws  pro- 
hibiting the  traffic  in  ardent  spirits  among  the  Indians  in  our 
western  territories,  and  no  one  has  pretended  they  were  un- 
constitutional." 

Mr.  Chesslebury  expressed  the  idea  that  what  might  be 
perfectly  constitutional  for  the  Indians,  might  be  quite  tyran- 
nical for  civilized  citizens.  For  he  considered  that  the  spirit 
of  our  territorial  institutions  rightfully  regarded  savages  as  a 
set  of  poor  devils,  with  no  rights,  except  the  right  to  keep  out 
of  the  way  of  the  settlers  as  well  as  they  could.  Therefore 
legislation  for  them  went  on  very  different  principles  from  leg- 
islation for  freemen. 

Dr.  Xewsham  listened  to  this  discussion  with  much  interest. 
For  the  Doctor  was  one  of  those  eminent  practitioners  who 
9 


*          194  COJNE    CUT    CORNERS. 

•  adorn  the  profession  and  oblige  their  patients,  by  freely  com- 
mending the  poison  in  the  evening  when  they  know  they  will 
be  paid  for  the  antidote  in  the  morning.  Thus  they  delight 
in  the  golden  eggs  of  illness  which  folly  lays  in  the  nest  of  in- 
temperate luxury  ;  but  too  often  fulfill  the  old  fable,  and  kill 
the  bird  in  too  much  haste. 

Therefore  Dr.  Newsham  watched  the  progress  of  the  gen- 
tlemen with  some  interest  in  the  result. 

Thus  professionally  attentive  to  slight  indications,  he  mis- 
took the  wandering  gesture  of  the  arm  which  enforced  the 
sentiment  of  Mr.  Chesslebury's  last  sentence,  for  a  point  at  a 
decanter  of  the  old  South  Side  Madeira  of  eighteen-twenty 
from  the  respectable  dealers. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chesslebury,  allowing  the 
physician  to  prescribe  for  him  another  glass,  and  bowing 
a  health  to  him  as  he  took  it.  "  Now,"  he  continued,  hold- 
ing up  the  glass  half  emptied,  "that  is  rare  old  South 
Side  Madeira,  of  the  year  eighteen-twenty.  That  is  pure 
and  innocent.  I  had  that  imported  myself.  Bagglehall  & 
Floric  got  it  for  me.  That  has  been  once  to  the  East  Indies 
on  a  sea  voyage  for  the  benefit  of  its  health,  Doctor,"  contin- 
ued the  blissfully  ignorant  Mr.  Chesslebury,  "  which  is  better 
than  being  drugged  at  home,  is  it  not,  eh  ?  Ha !  ha  !  That 's 
exactly  what  Floric  said  to  me  when  it  came.  Now  suppose 
you  pass  such  laws.  Here  are  the  respectable  dealers  like 
Bagglehall  'n  Floric ;  don't  you  see  you  '11  ruin  them  at  once. 
Of  course  there  are  classes  of  dealers  any  one  would  be  glad 
to  see  shut  up.  These  low  places,  resorted  to  by  poor  people ; 
three  cents  a  glass ;  and  such  wretched  manufacshured  stuff 
too ; — but  then  this  pr'ibitory  law  treats  us  all  alike.  You  sec 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  195 

its  unconsi-hootional — unconsi-hootional.  It  treats  us  all  alike. 
It  makes  no  dishincshuns.  It 's  unconsi-hootional." 

"  But,"  said  the  physician,  "  I  suppose  some  such  law  would 
put  a  stop  to  a  good  deal  of  public  intemperance  T' 

"Never,  sir,"  returned  the  host.  "Mor'l  means  are  the 
only  ones  to  effect  a  mor'l  reform." 

"  Besides,"  interposed  Mr.  Livingston  Sharstock,  "  it  would 
be  a  joke  if  it  did.  Because  the  sight  of  one  of  those  drunken 
wretches  once  in  a  while  has  a  very  good  effect  upon  people 
who  are  inclined  that  way,  I  dare  say.  Indeed,  I  Ve  often  seen 
them  when  going  through  the  street  and  a  good  many  little 
boys  running  after  them ;  and  it  must  have  a  very  salutary 
effect — very  salutary,  indeed,  to  have  these  people  see  what 
they  will  come  to  if  they  do  drink  at  these  low  groggeries." 

All  this  among  the  great  noise  of  the  three  hundred  plates, 
and  three  hundred  spoons,  and  three  hundred  mouths,  making 
merry  over  three  hundred  glasses,  and  more  pop  and  more 
sparkle,  clattering  and  clinking  of  Avares,  shouts  of  mirth  and 
delightful  screams  of  feminine  laughter  at  wine-prompted  wit. 

This  swelling  tumult  of  hilarity  reached  the  ears  of  the  gen- 
tlemanly Sagory  St.  Julien,  who  was  let  in  at  the  area  door 
at  about  midnight,  and  while  he  awaited  Mr.  Wilson,  he  was 
filled  with  pleasure  by  the  sound.  Mr.  Wilson  himself,  above 
stairs,  finding  that  the  company  were  enjoying  themselves  so 
well  as  to  be  unconscious  of  his  absence,  deserted  the  post  of 
his  duty,  and  withdrew  to  the  basement,  where,  in  company 
congenial,  he  imitated  the  example  of  his  illustrious  prototype. 
and  scattered  more  corks  upon  the  floor  than  he  would  have 
cared  to  pick  up  next  mornino-. 

Mi'.  Che.sslelmry,  still  in  the  crowd  and  crush  of  (he  supper- 


196  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

room,  holding  his  place  manfully  amidst  the  sway  of  the 
fashionable  multitude,  and  standing  well  to  his  post  against 
the  onset  of  ranks  of  ladies  and  files  of  young  gentlemen,  who 
make  a  charge  through  the  crowd  with  the  hope  of  getting  to 
the  door  and  going  out  to  commence  the  labors  of  the  evening 
in  the  ball-room — maintaining  his  ground  thus  amid  more  pop 
and  more  sparkle,  more  merriment  and  more  jingling  than 
ever,  Mr.  Chesslebury  continued  his  discussion  of  the  distinc- 
tions between  restraining  laws  and  prohibitory  laws,  and  be- 
tween respectable  dealers  and  low  dealers,  until  gradually  the 
debate,  growing  wandering,  took  the  form  of  practical  defiance 
both  to  the  principles  of  prohibition  and  the  weight  of  moral 
considerations,  by  the  pouring  down,  in  rapid  succession,  of  a 
great  many  glasses  of  divers  liquors. 

"  Here,  Livingston,  my  son,"  commenced  Mr.  Chesslebury, 
with  a  smile  of  strange  sweetness  and  affectionate  sentiment, 
as  the  group  were  gradually  left  nearly  alone  in  the  supper- 
room  by  the  withdrawing  crowds,  "  come,  lem-me  f-fill  your 


"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  returned  that  gentleman,  with  a  steadi- 
ness which  would  be  thought  very  creditable  by  one  who  did 
not  understand  how  he  had  the  advantage  of  more  intellectual 
people,  in  that  he  had  very  little  head  to  be  affected  by  the 
innocent  social  glass.  "  I  thank  you,  sir." 

The  Doctor  volunteered  to  fill  their  glasses.  There  was 
social  pleasure  expressed  in  his  obedient  features,  but  unde- 
niable professional  interest  and  anticipations  peeping  from 
each  eye.  He  filled  the  glasses,  and  he  filled  them  high. 

"Here's  to  your  health,  Mr.  Chesslebury,  and  our  better 
acquaintance  as  father  and  son.  Here 's  to  your  health." 


CONE     CTT     CORNERS.  197 

Catch  lions'  cubs  and  play  with  them  for  kittens.  Dig  pit- 
falls and  say  they  are  resting-places.  Raise  whirlwinds  and 
call  them  music.  Earthquakes  and  say  they  are  but  dances. 
But  do  not  drink  poison  and  call  it  drinking  health. 

"  Your  health,"  repeated  Mr.  Sharstock,  raising  his  glass. 

He  wonders  to  see  his  father's  does  not  rise.  He  lifts  his 
eyes  from  the  hand  which  holds  it  so  stiffly.  He  is  struck 
with  a  strange  astonishment.  Mr.  Chesslebury  is  gazing  fix- 
edly toward  the  door.  Does  some  unexpected  messenger 
beckon  him  away  ?  The  son  looks  around.  He  sees  no  one 
there.  The  stiffened  arm  for  a  moment  relaxes.  A  tremor 
in  the  hand  spills  the  red  wine.  It  falls  dripping  to  the  car- 
pet. The  Doctor  has  scarcely  time  to  cry  out  and  start  for- 
ward, when  the  tottering  form  before  him  grows  stiff  and 
rigid,  and  leaning  slowly  backward  falls  heavily  upon  the  floor. 

No  more  drinking  of  his  health  now. 

No  better  acquaintance  with  him  now. 

Then  a  cry  for  water  and  pillows — a  rush  of  people — a 
crowd  and  crush  of  visitors  standing  over  their  fallen  host  in 
murmuring  consternation.  Then  a  cry  for  air,  and  room  for 
him  to  breathe,  and  silence,  lest  he  be  disturbed.  Little  use 
are  these.  No  need  has  he  now  of  air  or  room ;  water  is  now 
too  late,  and  silence — ah !  that  is  his  forever. 

A  sudden  stopping  of  music  above  stairs  ;  an  abrupt  ces- 
sation of  dancing  and  laughter ;  much  terrified  whispering ; 
long-drawn  exclamations ;  mutual  gazes  of  silent  terror. 
Then  clandestine  withdrawals  in  rapid  succession.  All  those 
addicted  to  good  living,  but  not  too  far  gone  in  pleasure  to- 
night to  think  of  good  dying,  hurry  away  as  if  fearful  lest  the 
penalties'  of  nature  should  be  infectious.  Then  tlie  fashionable 


198  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

rival,  who  has  been  goaded  by  envy  at  her  hostess'  brilliant 
glory  all  the  evening,  lingers  to  steal  a  few  moments'  secret 
and  solemn  triumph  in  her  sudden  calamity.  Then  Mrs.  Ches- 
slebmjj  more  in  the  keenness  of  chagrin  and  bewilderment 
than  in  the  agony  of  a  yet  unweighed  affliction,  rushes  up  and 
down  insanely ;  and  calling  for  help  !  help !  finds  Wilson — 
the  gentlemanly-dressed — the  unexceptionably-mannered  Wil- 
son— together  with  Sagory  St.  Julien,  in  a  state  of  disheveled 
idiocy  below  stairs. 

The  catastrophe  once  fully  known,  the  house  becomes 
rapidly  deserted.  But  its  insensible  host  still  lies  upon  the 
floor  where  he  fell.  His  position  has  been,  with  pillows 
and  cushions,  ameliorated,  if  indeed  earthly  conditions  may 
be  bettered  to  him  now  ;  and  the  family  physician  paces  the 
room,  while  in  great  anxiety  he  awaits  the  result  of  his 
remedies,  and  hopes  in  vain  for  signals  of  some  remaining  life. 

Mrs.  Chesslebury,  her  glory  disarranged,  disordered,  and 
forgotten,  sits  half  upon  a  chair  accidentally  convenient  by  the 
table,  and  makes  with  her  elbow  a  resting-place  amid  its  rich 
and  wasted  confusion.  Her  head,  throbbing  with  conster- 
nation, rests  upon  her  hand,  and  she  looks  vacantly  with  hot, 
dry  eyes  at  her  husband  out-stretched  before  her. 

The  gray  eye  of  morning,  peering  through  the  curtains, 
falls  upon  this  scene  ;  and  it  opens  wide  and  shining,  with 
amazement,  as  it  gazes  upon  the  strange  disorder,  and  stranger 
dismay  in  the  Chesslebury  mansion,  and  the  comfortless 
couch,  and  the  breathless  slumber  of  its  occupant,  strangest 
of  all. 


XVIII. 


OCTOBER,    1651. 


THE  day  which  thus 
dawned  upon  the  fam- 
ily mansion  wore  slow- 
ly away,  and  at  last 
Night  came  forth,  and 

standing,  like  a  policeman  on  duty,  with  a  thousand  stars  on 
his  blue  breast,  gradually  raised  the  new  moon  for  a  dark- 
lautern,  and  through  the  trees  of  the  neighboring  part  cast  a, 
ray  of  light  upon  the  door-steps.  This  ray,  at  ten  o'clock 
or  thereabouts,  served  to  illumine  the  footsteps  of  no  other 
than  Paul  Rundle,  who,  after  skipping  briskly  up  the  steps, 
hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  rung  the  bell. 

Paul  had  just  finished  a  hard  day's  work  at  the  store  of  the 
respectable  dealers,  and  hastening  home,  heard  vague  news  of 
the  sudden  death  of  Mr.  Chesslebury. 


200  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Paul,  ray  son,"  said  his  mother,  who  had  sat  up  for  him. 
"  Paul,  Jason  is  away,  and  they  have  no  one  thSre  but  serv- 
ants. I  think  you  had  better  go  round,  and  see  if  you  can 
do  any  thing.  Some  one  must  sit  up  to  watch,  and  I  think 
you  would  be  very  useful." 

Paul's  mind  had  long  been  balanced  between  an  ill-defined 
apprehension  upon  the  one  hand,  that  his  father  had  owed 
some  of  his  embarrassments  to  Mr.  Chesslebury's  assistance, 
and  upon  the  other  hand,  an  equally  vague  sense  of  gratitude 
at  the  very  handsome  words  subsequently  used  by  that  gentle- 
man to  him.  He  was  pretty  sure  he  owed  some  kind  of  debt 
to  the  estate  of  the  deceased ;  but  he  was  by  no  means  clear 
on  which  account  it  was,  or  whether  it  ought  to  be  paid  in 
gratitude  or  indignation. 

"  My  son,"  said  his  mother  again,  as  he  made  no  reply,  but 
sat  revolving  these  half-formed  thoughts.  "  I  suppose  you  are 
very  tired ;  but  I  know  they  need  you,  and  I  think  they 
would  take  it  very  kindly,  too." 

His  mother's  recommendation  turned  the  scale ;  and  he  ac- 
cordingly put  on  his  hat  again,  bade  her  and  Susie  good  night, 
and  hastened  off. 

With  low-toned  voices  and  much  whispering  he  was 
received.  The  gentlemanly-dressed  Wilson  with  eyes  swollen 
and  heavy,  as  Paul  thought,  with  grief,  waited  upon  him  in 
the  hall  to  learn  his  errand.  Paul  inquired  for  Mrs.  Chessle- 
bury. 

"  Oh !"  said  that  domestic.  "  It 's  no  use ;  you  can't  see 
her.  She  's  so  terribly  stewed  up  that  Dr.  Newsham  says 
she  must  n't  see  any  body ;  he  won't  answer  for  the  conse- 
quences to  her  brains." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  201 

"  Dear  me !"  said  Paul,  quite  impressed  with  Mr.  Wilson's 
idea  of  grief. 

"  Besides,"  continued  the  domestic,  "  she  's  very  busy  order- 
ing her  mourning.  She  's  got  Mam'sell  Flounce,  the  milliner 
up  stairs,  and  it 's  impossible  to  see  her.  She  's  getting  ready 
for  the  funeral." 

Paul  hesitated,  half  inclined  to  go  away,  but  upon  second 
thought  he  made  known  his  offer,  and  was  graciously  bid  into 
the  back  parlor.  There,  alone,  he  awaited  the  servant's  re- 
turn, who  soon  came  bearing  Mrs.  Chesslebury's  acceptance 
of  the  proffered  service.  Wilson  left  this  message,  and  then 
went  out,  saying  he  would  bring  Mr.  Bundle  a  glass  of  wine. 

"  We  've  got  some  prime  old  Madeira,"  said  he ;  "  it 's  thirty 
years  olds" 

fl  No  matter  about  it,"  interrupted  Paul,  calling  after  him;  "I 
don't  want  any." 

But  Wilson  was  gone. 

"  The  very  stuff  that  Hococks  made  I  do  believe,"  exclaimed 
Paul,  slapping  one  hand  with  the  other  in  a  gesture  of  as- 
tonishment. 

With  this  pleasant  surprise  in  mind,  he  threw  himself  into  the 
many-jointed  easy-chair.  It  stretched  itself  to  accommodate 
his  form,  carrying  his  head  gently  back,  and  lifting  his  feet 
from  the  floor ;  and  thus  Paul  settled  into  a  position  of  perfect 
comfort. 

"  Oh !"  said  he,  with  a  long-drawn  breath  of  satisfaction. 
"  This  is  great.  I  wish  I  had  such  a  chair  as  this.  I  Ve  seen 
them  in  the  store  windows.  I  never  knew  they  were  so  near 
alive  as  to  move  of  'emselves." 

Then  came  a  little  battle  between  Curiosity,  wishing  to  see 
9* 


202  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

how  the  chair  was  made,  and  Sleepiness,  insisting  on  sitting 
still.  Sleepiness  got  the  best  of  it,  and  Curiosity  gave  in. 
The  result  was  a  treaty  of  peace,  conditioned  that  Curiosity 
might  ask  any  number  of  questions,  but  Sleepiness  should  not 
be  disturbed  to  answer  them. 

So  Curiosity  asked  what  such  a  chair  would  cost,  and  Sleep- 
iness winked  a  great  many  times  with  no  thought  of  making 
an  estimate.  Then  Curiosity  asked  what  they  would  do  with 
it  now  Mr.  Chesslebury  was  dead,  and  Sleepiness  shut  eyes  to 
remember  just  how  Mr.  Chesslebury  looked  when  he  was  alive. 
And  then  Paul  wondered  what  was  the  matter  with  Mr.  Ches- 
slebury,— if  it  was  really  the  apoplexy,  and  he  wondered 
whether,  in  case  he  should  ever  become  rich  and  own  such  a 
house,  he  should  eat  and  drink  so  much  and  do  soJittle  as  to 
die  of  it,  just  as  a  steam-engine  well  fed  with  water  and  fire, 
but  lying  idle,  would  grow  red,  and  full,  and  burst ;  and  then 
he  thought  about  the  fire  under  the  boilers,  and  how  the  coals 
glowed  desperately  in  the  furnaces,  and  how  angrily  they 
snapped  and  growled  when  fresh  coals  were  cast  in,  and  he 
wondered  whether  South  Side  Madeira  had  any  thing  to  do 
with  it,  and  what  would  be  done  with  what  was  left  over,  and 
then  he  wondered  without  wondering  about  any  thing  in  par- 
ticular ;  and  then  he  heard  a  sound  as  of  a  faint  sob  coming 
from  up  stairs,  and  noises  as  of  footsteps  to  and  fro  upon  the 
floor  above  him,  and  he  saw  Mrs.  Chesslebury  in  her  room 
walking  in  funeral  procession  all  alone  and  crying,  and  it 
seemed  very  strange  that  she  should  ever  cry ;  and  he  won- 
dered if  she  would  think  any  thing  about  his  coming  round, 
and  whether  mother  would  be  invited  to  the  funeral ;  and  then 
he  wondered  if  mother  was  lying  awake,  thinking  with  tears 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


of  father,  as  she  often  did,  and  then  he  beckoned  to  father  to 
come  home  to  dinner,  and  father  said  he  was  coming,  but  he 
did  n't  come,  and  they  sat  up  for  him  till  they  all  fell  asleep ; 
and  then  he  wondered  what  Susie  was  dreaming  about  that 
made  her  smile  so,  and  if  he  could  kiss  her  without  awaking 
her,  and  then,  just  as  he  was  going  to  try,  Jason's  voice 
called  him,  and  he  went  out  to  find  Jason,  and  Jason  wanted 
some  white  kid  gloves  for  a  party,  and  Paul  handed  down 
black,  and  Jason  asked  with  a  laugh,  if  he  supposed  he  were 
going  to  a  funeral,  and  Paul  said  "  Yes,"  and  Jason,  who  had 
just  come  into  town,  was  astonished  and  said,  "  Whose  ?"  and 
Paul  tried  to  tell  him  gradually,  so  that  he  should  not  know 
all  at  once,  and  he  began  by  taking  Jason  down  stairs 
into  the  cellar,  and  there  he  showed  him  how  to  make  old 
South  Side  Madeira,  and  just  then  Mr.  Hococks  came  down 
with  Mr.  Floric,  bringing  something  long  and  heavy  upon 
a  shutter,  and  Mr.  Bagglehall  came  after  them  with  an  ac- 
count-book and  an  inkstand,  and  they  put  the  shutter  across 
two  old  brandy-casks  and  pulled  the  horse-blanket  off  it, 
and  there  was  Mr.  Chesslebury's  body ; — he  was  not  quite 
dead  yet,  for  lie  turned  his  head  over ;  and  Jason  fainted 
away,  and  Paul  himself  could  not  stir  to  do  any  thing,  for  he 
was  tied  hand  and  foot,  and  when  he  tried  to  scream,  Mr. 
Floric  laughed  and  thrust  a  little  roll  of  bills  into  Paul's 
mouth,  and  quite  choked  him,  and  then  when  Paul  was  look- 
ing on,  they  stripped  up  their  sleeves  and  rolled  up  their 
pantaloons  so  high,  and  developed  such  thin  black  limbs, 
that  they  became  like  immense  shadows  of  the  spiders  which 
hung  from  the  beams  over  head,  and  then  dancing  triumph- 
antly, but  in  silence,  like  imps  and  specters,  they  disrobed 


204  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Mr.  Chesslebury  and  pulled  him  to  pieces,  and  dancing  all 
the  while,  but  still  with  no  dream  of  music,  they  examined 
each  piece,  and  Mr.  Bagglehall  set  them  all  down  in  his  book 
opposite  Mr.  Chesslebury's  account  there,  and  Dr.  Newsham 
was  among  the  other  spider  shadows,  and  he  wore  a  new 
hat  with  narrow  crape,  paid  for,  he  said,  out  of  his  last  fee ; 
and  he  made  an  estimate  of  how  much  the  body  was  worth 
for  a  "  subject,"  and  how  much  each  piece,  each  organ,  muscle, 
membrane,  nerve,  bone  and  tissue  were  damaged  by  moderate 
drinking,  and  they  found  a  considerable  injury  to  every  one, 
so  that  there  was  a  good  deal  to  be  deducted  from  the  value 
of  "  the  subject"  on  account  of  the  trade  of  the  respectable 
dealers,  and  all  these  deductions  were  footed  up  together,  with 
a  commission  upon  the  amount  of  Dr.  Kewsham's  spirituous 
prescriptions,  which  had  been  put  up  by  the  respectable  deal- 
ers, and  the  total  amount  was  passed  to  the  credit  of  the  Doc- 
tor, who  said  he  would  take  it  in  some  of  that  old  South  Side, 
if  they  had  any  of  that  importation  left,  and  would  let  him 
have  it  at  trade  price ;  and  then  Mr.  Bagglehall  balanced  the 
Chesslebury  account,  and  announced  the  net  gain,  which  he 
carried  to  Profit  <fc  Loss,  and  drew  a  black  line  across  the 
page  ;  and  the  result  brought  a  few  dollars  to  Dr.  Newsham, 
a  few  hundreds  to  the  respectable  dealers,  and  made  Mr. 
Chesslebury  a  total  loss;  and  this  was  so  satisfactory,  that 
they  danced  more,  and  drew  liquor  from  the  casks,  and  broke 
necks  of  bottles  to  get  at  it ;  and  just  then  "Wilson  came  after 
Mr.  Chesslebury,  but  not  in  time  to  prevent  Dr.  Newsham 
from  bundling  up  the  pieces  in  Mr.  Hocook's  apron,  which 
stretched  amazingly  for  the  purpose,  and  the  Doctor  ran  away 
with  the  bundle  on  his  back,  crying,  "  Come !  bundle,  come  !" 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  205 

and  Wilson  gave  up  the  chase,  and  drew  himself  a  glass  of 
wine,  and  another  for  Paul,  and  came  to  him  and  said  :  "  Will 
you  have  a  glass  of  wine  ?" 

"  What  r  said  Paul. 

"  Come,  Bundle,  come !"  repeated  Wilson,  laying  a  hand 
upon  his  shoulder,  "  will  you  have  a  glass  of  wine  ?  You  've 
been  asleep." 

"  H'm,"  muttered  Paul,  waking  to  a  sense  of  being  called 
on  to  say  something,  but  not  certain  what. 

"  Come,  Mr.  Bundle,"  said  Mr.  Wilson,  evincing  a  perma- 
nent confusion  of  mind  as  to  Paul's  proper  cognomen,  "  come, 
perhaps  you  will  like  a  bite  of  something."  And  he  placed  a 
cake-basket  and  a  decanter  and  glasses  upon  a  slight  table — 
"  This  is  Madeira—" 

"Ah?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  servant,  condescending  to  be  confidential, 
"  It 's  prime  old  South  Side  Madeira — " 

"  Is  it  ?"  said  Paul. 

" — that  was  made  in  1820,"  continued  Mr.  Wilson,  waxing 
communicative  and  familiar.  "  It 's  been  to  the  East  Indies 
and  back,  and  it 's  stood  in  bottles  ten  years.  That 's  the 
best  there  is  any  where.  Try  a  little,  won't  you." 

Although  this  recommendation  produced  no  effect,  Mr. 
Wilson  was  very  loth  to  depart  without  an  opportunity  to 
discuss  the  contents  of  the  decanter ;  but  at  last  he  went,  and 
Paul  was  left  alone. 

Paul  thought  that  a  book  might  be  an  assistance  to  him  in 
keeping  awake.  So  he  opened  the  glass  doors  of  a  rich  ma- 
hogany book-case  which  stood  against  the  wall  in  the  back 
parlor,  in  search  of  a  volume  to  read. 


206  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

He  passed  by  the  novels,  of  which  there  were  a  great  num- 
ber in  the  book-case,  as  being  inappropriate  to  the  present 
occasion ;  and  the  learned  treatises,  of  which  there  were  two 
or  three  elegantly  bound,  and  with  leaves  yet  uncut,  as  being 
uninteresting;  and  the  books  in  the  French  language,  of 
which  there  were  a  number,  as  being  unintelligible  to  him 
without  a  dictionary ;  and  the  Latin  classics,  of  which  there 
was  what  purported  to  be  a  complete  set,  as  being  unintel- 
ligible, even  with  one.  He  passed  them  all  by,  and  selected 
an  old  fashioned  copy  of  YOUNG'S  NIGHT  THOUGHTS,  as  being 
just  the  book  to  doze  over.  He  took  it  down,  and  returned 
with  it  to  his  chair,  where  he  propped  it  upon  his  knees  and 
began  to  read. 

The  noise  of  evening  carriages  upon  the  avenue  died  away. 
The  last  gay  passing  group  carried  the  sounds  of  their  foot- 
steps and  their  voices  into  the  distance.  The  echoes  of  busy 
day,  which  since  sunset  lost  their  way  and  wandered  with 
fainter  and  fainter  strength  through  the  reverberating  streets, 
sunk  exhausted  into  silence  and  repose.  The  great  fire-bell, 
whose  sudden  alarm  startled  Paul,  and  for  a  short  time  awoke 
again  the  noises  of  the  street,  ceased  at  last  its  terrible  trem- 
bling tones,  and  all  was  still  again. 

They  are  all  asleep  at  last  throughout  the  family  mansion, 
and  Paul  sits  guarding  the  repose  of  him  who  can  never  be 
disturbed  again. 

He  lies  in  the  front  parlor.  When  Paul  goes  in  to  pay  a 
solemn  visit,  it  is  not  through  the  folding-doors  which  slide 
with  ponderous  noise ;  but  around  through  the  hall  and  on 
tiptoe. 

It  is  very  silent  there.     The  misty  atmosphere  of  the  room 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  207 

is  half  illumined  by  a  feeble  flame  hovering  precariously  upon 
a  finger  of  the  many-armed  chandelier ;  a  famished  butterfly 
upon  fictitious  flowers.  The  shutters  are  closed,  the  curtains 
are  loosed  and  hang  drooping  in  heavy  folds  to  the  floor. 
The  rich  furniture  which  fills  the  parlor,  stands  back  with 
reverence  to  make  room  for  him.  The  marble  center-table 
is  moved  to  one  side.  The  sofas  have  retreated  against  the 
wall.  The  piano  is  closed  ;  the  music-books  have  been  piled 
away  beneath  it.  The  paintings  which  cover  the  walls  are 
hung  in  crape.  There  is  no  fire,  and  the  black  grate-screen 
reflects  solemnly  upon  the  scene.  The  dark  shadow  of  mor- 
tality is  cast  over  the  elegance  of  the  parlor  and  its  equipments. 

But  the  richest  of  all  the  rich  furniture  is  that  which  stands 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  No  article  of  ornament  or  of 
luxury  here  is  so  costly — so  elegant — as  that.  Of  all  the 
rosewood  here,  none  is  so  rich,  so  beautiful  as  that.  There  is 
no  polish  so  perfect :  no  color  so  delicate.  No  silver  so  pure 
as  the  plate  upon  the  door  of  that  last  home ;  none  so  pro- 
fuse as  that  which  nails  him  in.  No  satins  adorning  in  fash- 
ionable glory  the  fair  forms  which  filled  this  room  last  night, 
could  surpass  that  which  now  arrays  his  form.  Nor  were  the 
garments  of  the  gay  more  true  to  their  transient  fashions, 
than  are  the  garments  he  wears,  to  that  ancient  fashion — 
the  only  fashion  which  never  changes — which  we  must  all 
assume  at 'last. 

"  Oh,  ho !"  sighed  the  young  man,  "  Where  is  my  father,  I 
wonder.  He  surely  must  be — Oh  dear  !  It  is  above  three 
years  he  's  been  away,  and  no  word  yet.  Perhaps  it 's  better 
so.  But  I  would  almost  rather  he  were  dead,  like  him,  than 
gone  dishonorably,  and  leaving  us  disgrace." 


208  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

Paul  raises  the  stiff  vail  which  lies  above  the  pale  counte- 
nance before  him.  The  body  is  composed  in  the  inflexible 
posture  of  death.  The  face  is  turned  toward  Heaven ;  the 
eyes  are  forever  closed  on  all  things  earthly. 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  softly,  "  No.  There  is  hope  yet.  My 
father  may  come  back.  It  is  better  as  it  is,  for  there  is  some 
hope  yet." 


XIX. 


OCTOBEE,    1851. 


MORNING  broke  early 
upon  the  ocean,  and 
thence  fresh  from  its  bath, 
running  hither  over  the 

eastern  country,  lingered  a  little  in  the  fields  and  on  the  hills 
before  it  came  into  town.  Waking  first  its  favorites,  the 
flowers  and  the  birds,  and  then  its  friends,  the  farmers,  and  all 
sensible  country-folk,  it  spent  a  merry  hour  or  so  with  them. 
It  came  forth  from  ambuscades  behind  the  hills,  to  surprise 
early  reapers ;  it  gallantly  greeted  milkmaids  coming  out  upon 
their  morning  errand,  and  laughed  with  the  bright-eyed 
children  who  were  making  nosegays  in  the  morning  dew  ;  it 
peered  in  at  chamber-windows,  and  on  the  walls  painted 
bright  monochromatic  pictures — in  a  color,  not  in  the  black- 
ness of  art — and  out  of  doors  again  it  played  at  hide-and-go- 
seek  with  its  own  long  shadows  through  the  forests,  until  at 
last,  it  settled  down  into  a  steady,  permanent,  fulkgloried  day, 
and  went  into  town  to  devote  itself  to  business.  It  traveled 
thither  on  swift  wings,  overtaking  and  passing  the  Cone  Cut 


210  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

stage,  which  was  creeping  over  the  hills  toward  the  nearest 
railway-station  to  meet  the  early  train,  and  as  it  passed,  it 
smiled  upon  Jason,  who  sat  on  the  top ;  and  as  it  glanced  in 
his  face,  he  took  off  his  crape-banded  cap  to  cool  his  forehead 
in  the  fresh  air,  and  he  looked  so  sad  that  the  merry  mom- 
ing  did  not  much  care  for  him,  and  he  did  not  at  all  care  for 
the  morning ;  so,  flying  on,  it  reached  the  city  by  the  spires, 
and  came  down  into  it,  like  Santa  Claus,  by  the  chimneys. 

Paul,  long  watching  for  it  at  the  open  window  that  over- 
looked the  little  stone-embroidered  piece  of  ground  which  the 
Chesslebury  mansion  called  its  garden,  was  as  glad  as  any 
one  to  see  it.  Standing  there,  he  listened  for  the  signs  of  lite  it 
might  awaken  above  him.  At  last  he  heard  a  slip-shod  step 
come  down  the  stairs  and  shuffle  through  the  hall.  He  lost  no 
time  in  calling  the  servant  back,  who  proved  to  be  Wilson. 
Reporting  to  him  that  every  thing  was  safe,  Paul  requested  to 
be  let  out.  Declining  an  invitation  to  wait  four  or  five  hours 
more  to  participate  in  the  Chesslebury  breakfast,  he  bade  the 
mansion,  in  the  person  of  Wilson,  good  morning,  and  went 
away. 

Mr.  Wilson  thereupon  went  out  to  his  morning's  amuse- 
ment, with  the  jet  of  Croton,  on  the  sidewalk,  where  he 
disported  himself  for  some  time  as  an  imp  of  the  fountain. 
For  to-morrow  was  to  be  the  funeral,  and  the  blinds  must  be 
very  dustless,  and  the  area  fence  an  unexceptionable  black, 
and  the  windows  of  a  glossy  brightness,  and  every  thing  must 
be  of  an  elegance  unusual  even  for  the  Chesslebury  mansion. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Livingston  Sharstock  were  utterly  crushed  by 
the  death  of  their  father.  Of  course  the  wedding  tour  must 
be  begun  in  a  close  carriage  in  the  van  of  the  funeral  proces- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  211 

sion,  and  they  must,  for  a  time,  at  least,  enjoy  such  resources 
as  they  had,  in  retirement  from  the  promiscuous  gaiety  of  the 
best  society ;  and  this  prospect  made  the  honeymoon  intoler- 
able. The  best  society  recoiled  from  them  in  their  supposed 
affliction,  and  left  them  alone. 

Whether  it  did  this  out  of  compassion,  which  we  should  not 
expect,  or  out  of  natural  antipathy  to  any  one  who  should  en- 
joy the  pleasures  of  a  well-endured  and  rightly  cherished 
grief,  or  whether  it  did  it  out  of  custom  and  in  accordance 
with  the  latest  style  of  fashion,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sharstock  did  not 
inquire ;  but  they  were  so  completely  overwhelmed  at  the 
prospect  of  having  to  make  the  most  of  each  other's  society 
for  a  time,  and  so  aghast  at  the  idea  that  Helen  could  not 
wear  colors,  and  that  Livingston  must  wear  crape,  that  they 
were  quite  broken  down,  and  totally  unfitted  by  grief,  as  Mrs. 
Chesslebury  said,  for  any  care  or  supervision  of  the  necessary 
solemnities. 

So  well,  however,  did  Mrs.  Chesslebury  school  her  deeper 
feelings,  that  she  showed,  by  exertions  overpowering  sorrow, 
what  a  tribute  she  wished  to  pay  to  departed  worth.  She 
penned  the  brief  and  suggestive  announcement,  "  Died  sud- 
denly at  his  residence."  She  supervised  all  the  arrangements, 
and  planned  the  details  of  the  ceremony  by  clandestine  orders 
from  her  retirement. 

She  sent  for  Mr.  Stretch,  who  came  with  a  long  face  and  his 
hand  in  a  black  glove,  and  not  long  after,  went  away  with  a 
short  face  and  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  took  an  omnibus 
for  Nassau  street,  and  spent  the  afternoon  in  brief  interviews 
with  busy  editors  in  dirty  third-story  rooms,  and  next  morn- 
ing reported  himself  again  at  the  Chesslebury  mansion,  with 


212  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

all  the  morning  papers ;  in  each  of  which  he  had  marked  for 
Mrs.  Chesslebury  the  printed  grief  of  all  the  journalists  in 
town,  that  their  fellow-citizen  had  fallen;  and  one  or  two 
long  articles  there  were  on  pedigree,  public  life  and  private 
virtues,  for  which  Mr.  Stretch  was  particularly  commended. 

It  was  her  foresight  which  provided  linen  by  the  piece  for 
the  officiating  clergyman  and  family  physician,  and  gloves  by 
the  box,  sufficient  to  furnish  an  extra  pair  to  the  mourners  at 
large. 

She  employed  the  most  fashionable  undertaker  in  town, 
and  her  instructions  to  him  being  very  brief  and  comprehen- 
sive, to  wit :  "  to  do  it  in  the  best  style,"  he  exerted  himself 
to  the  utmost,  and  outshone  all  his  previous  triumphs  in  that 
line.  All  the  minutiae  of  the  pageant,  as  well  as  all  the 
grander  details  of  his  bill,  were  left  entirely  to  his  solemn 
discretion ;  and  having  come  at  the  first  interview  very  read- 
ily to  an  understanding  with  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  on  the  subject 
of  style,  he  found  her  to  be  a  mourner  after  his  own  heart, 
and  had  the  details  of  both  the  ceremony  and  the  account  all 
his  own  way.  It  was  she,  too,  who  catalogued  the  friends  of 
the  family  who  were  invited  to  attend ;  and  so  liberal  was  her 
heart  then,  and  so  unusual  her  friendship,  that  the  undertaker 
rejoiced  when  he  saw  the  list ;  and  on  the  day,  Mr.  Floric,  in 
his  shop  door,  after  counting  sixty  carriages  following  the 
plumed  hearse  in  the  street,  and  seeing  now  upon  the  side- 
walk behind,  a  long  supplementary  procession  of  pedestrian 
mourners,  said  that  was  the  largest  funeral  he  ever  saw,  and 
stepped  out  and  asked  the  pedestrian  mourners  whose  funeral 
it  was ;  and  some  of  them  stared  as  they  passed,  and  two  or 
three  laughed  and  said  they  did  not  know,  and  they  all  went 


CONE     CUT    CORNKBS.  213 

by,  keeping  step  and  following  their  estimable  fellow-citizen, 
as  far  as  they  could  in  body,  without  thinking  of  him  at 
all  at  heart. 

A  few  weeks  afterward,  Mrs.  Chesslebury  met  her  old  friend 
Mrs.  Stuccuppe,  who,  with  much  solemnity,  condoled  with 
her,  remarking,  as  if  it  were  some  faint  consolation,  that  the 
funeral  was  very  impressive. 

"  Yes  ?"  said  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  speaking  inquiringly  from 
behind  a  pocket  handkerchief  with  a  deep  black  border  around 
it — so  deep  that  it  might  more  properly  be  described  as  a 
black  handkerchief  with  a  white  square  in  the  middle  of  it. 
"  Yes !  do  you  think  so  ?  I  am  very  glad  ;  I  thought  every 
thing  went  off  well.  It  Avas  estimated  that  we  had  had  nearly 
five  hundred  persons  present  It  was  a  great  deal  more  than 
we  could  have  expected ;  for  the  weather  looked  so  doubtful 
that  I  did  not  think  there  could  be  really  any  body  expected. 
But  there  were  nearly  five  hundred;  there  were  sixty  car- 
riages went  to  the  cemetery." 

"  Yes,"  added  Mrs.  Stuccuppe,  with  sympathy,  "  and  only 
seventeen  of  them  empty." 

"  Did  you  see  the  hearse  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Chesslebury. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  it  from  the  window,"  answered  Mrs.  Stuccuppe. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  the  idea  ?  four  horses  with  black 
blankets  on,  and  plumes  in  their  head-dresses,  and  a  postillion 
iu  black,  with  a  white  neckcloth." 

"  I  thought  it  was  very  impressive,"  assented  Mrs.  Stuc- 
cuppe, "  very  much  so  indeed." 

"  Mr.  Graves  got  up  all  the  arrangements  for  us,  you  know," 
concluded  Mrs.  Chesslebury,  "  and  he  said  it  was  the  hand- 
somest private  affair  he  had  ever  had  any  connection  with/' 


214  CONE     CUT     CORN  E  US. 

These  consolations,  and  others  of  various  natures,  but  all 
with  a  like  success,  ministered  balm  to  the  wounded  spirit  of 
the  widow ;  and  the  calmness  and  self-possession  of  her  mind 
was  preserved,  and  the  elegant  fascinations  of  her  dress  and 
manners,  were  perhaps  increased,  while  in  the  sable  glory  of 
mourning,  she  exhibited  the  signals  of  her  bereavement 
through  the  full  appointed  time  of  sorrow. 

As  soon  as  the  Chesslebury  family  begun  to  recover  from 
the  shock  which  it  had  suffered  by  its  sudden  decapitation,  it 
came  into  new  perplexity  in  respect  to  the  settling  of  the 
Chesslebury  estate,  which  proved  to  be  one  of  those  estates 
that,  being  very  muddy,  are  settled  with  much  difficulty,  and 
only  in  the  lapse  of  time. 

It  was  not  easy  to  see  clearly  of  what  the  Chesslebury  estate 
consisted. 

There  was  the  family  mansion,  a  handsome  property  in  it- 
self; but  the  Chessleburyan  papers  indicated  that  its  late 
owner  had  entertained  some  secret  misgivings  as  to  the  state 
of  the  title. 

There  was  a  policy  of  life  insurance  in  a  sum  that  was  a 
fortune  in  itself;  but  it  was  the  policy  of  a  Chessleburyan 
company,  which,  having  received  all  acquirable  premiums 
through  the  aid  of  a  considerable  flourish  of  trumpets  at  the 
outset,  had  been  very  shortly  afterward  conveniently  dis- 
solved, to  save  the  payment  of  losses ;  and  was  rightfully  con- 
sidered as  having  been  successfully  managed,  since  it  divided 
so  handsomely  at  its  dissolution. 

There  was  the  great  case  of  Pockitt  vs.  Pierce,  which  had 
been  in  the  office  ever  since  creation — so  said  Mr.  Stretch — and 
in  which  Mr.  Chesslebury  had  a  depending  interest  of  twenty 


CONE     CUT     COKNERS.  215 

thousand  out  of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  together  with  costs ; 
he  having  originally  bought  into  the  claim  to  prosecute  it  on 
speculation.  The  cause  being  now  as  it  appeared  from  Mr. 
Stretch's  voluble  statement :  "  In  the  Supreme  Court  in  equity, 
late  before  the  Chancellor, — on  a  decretal  order  that  the  de- 
cretal order  of  the  17th  January,  1850,  modifying  the  decretal 
order  of  the  12th  November,  1848,  modifying  the  decretal 
order  of  the  27th  May,  1845,  be  so  far  modified  that  the  de- 
fendant Kortright  go  on  to  sell  until  the  further  order  of  the 
court"  ; — the  case  was  naturally  a  matter  of  some  difficulty  of 
investigation,  to  say  nothing  of  uncertainty  of  profit. 

Then  there  was  the  Jenkins'  estate  claim,  in  which  it  ap- 
peared that  by  conjecture  supported  by  a  lack  of  any  evidence 
to  the  contrary,  there  was  reason  to  believe  that  untold  mil- 
lions in  the  Bank  of  England,  composing  in  fact  an  actual  and 
respectable  fraction  of  the  specie  deposits  currently  reported 
by  that  institution  to  be  in  its  vaults,  were  unclaimed  divi- 
dends belonging  of  right  to  the  heirs  and  next  of  kin  of  Peter 
Bopp  and  Lady  Jane  Bopp,  who  died  according  to  legend  in 
1694.  And  the  problem  in  the  Jenkins'  estate  claim  was  to 
establish  by  town  records,  tomb-stones,  affidavits,  and  the 
traditions  of  grandmothers,  that  the  numerous  and  scattered 
family  of  Jenkins  in  America  were  lineal  descendants  of  Peter 
and  Lady  Jane  Bopp.  This  problem,  it  appeared,  had  been  un- 
der the  professional  consideration  of  Mr.  Chesslebury,  upon  the 
basis  of  making  the  claim  a  stock  called  the  Jenkins'  Unclaim- 
ed Dividend  Stock,  to  Mr.  Chesslebury's  expenses  in  prosecut- 
ing which,  all  inducible  fools,  Jenkins  or  otherwise,  had  con- 
tibuted  the  sums  set  opposite  their  respective  names ;  it  being 
covenanted  and  agreed  that  the  proceeds  recovered  should  be 


216  COSE     CUT     CORNERS. 

divided  among  the  subscribers  pro  raid,  after  paying  to  the 
counsel,  viz.,  Mr.  Chesslebury,  a  commission  of  fifty  per  cent. 
Whether  this  was  a  bonus  likely  to  accrue  to  the  estate  did 
not  at  first  appear,  until  a  memorandum  of  report  to  the  stock- 
holders was  found,  from  which  it  was  to  be  inferred,  that  the 
Bank  of  England  was  found  to  be  an  oyster,  and  that  English 
tomb-stones  of  1694,  turned  out  to  be  mostly  illegible. 

There  was  an  interest  of  nine  seventeenths  in  the  Grand 
Palava  Cinnebar  Mines  in  Mexico,  which  apparently  had  been 
very  profitable  ;  indeed,  so  much  so,  that  the  paternal  atten- 
tion of  the  Mexican  Government  had  been  attracted  to  the 
same,  and  its  fostering  care  being  inteqwsed  between  it  and  its 
American  proprietors,  the  incomes  had  been  diminished ;  and 
under  these  circumstances  the  whole  affair  was  at  present 
shrouded  in  an  almost  impenetrable  cloud  of  correspondence. 

There  was  also  a  share  of  one  undivided  fourth  part  of  the 
patent  of  Mr.  Weismann,  of  Weismann  and  Sillibuoy,  civil 
engineers,  for  making  carpets  and  cloths  out  of  copper  wire, 
and  finer  textures  and  laces  out  of  threads  of  annealed  glass. 

There  was  an  endless  catalogue  of  sections,  half  sections, 
quarter  sections,  and  North-west  quarters  of  South-east  quar- 
ters of  sections  of  townships  and  ranges,  North  and  South, 
East  and  West,  in  the  great  Bunkum  Reserve,  in  Indiana. 

There  was  a  large  interest  in  an  insolvent  iron  foundry  com- 
pany of  Pennsylvania, 

There  was  a  complicated  conglomeration  of  conveyances  in 
the  matter  of  the  estate  of  Carrol  Plumnie,  deceased,  from 
which  papers  nothing  appeared  very  clearly  except  that  Car- 
rol Plumnie,  surviving,  was  father-in-law  to  Mr.  Chesslebury, 
but  so  far  from  ending  that  relation  with  his  mortal  existence, 


CONE     CUT     C  O  U  N  E  It  S  .  217 

ns  is  usually  considered  to  be  the  case,  Carrol  Plumine,  de- 
ceased, intestate,  grew  still  farther  and  farther  in  law  to  that 
gentleman  after  death.  These  papers  seemed  to  touch  the 
title  of  Virginian  estates,  but  where  they  touched  it,  or  whither 
they  carried  it,  or  how  they  left  it  there,  was  not  so  easily  de- 
termined. 

There  was  no  end  to  the  list  of  these  and  the  like  snug 
little  investments.  It  might  be  said  literally,  no  end,  because 
the  last  upon  the  catalogue  was  the  Mintermunny  Land,  Tim- 
ber and  Mining  Company,  which  being  endless  in  itself  cer- 
tainly afforded  no  chance  of  a  conclusion  to  the  others.  It 
did  not  appear  that  the  land  was  yet  purchased,  or  the  timber 
grown,  or  the  mining  prospected,  nor  in  fact  that  the  Minter- 
munny itself  had  any  location  whatever,  except  that  which  it 
possessed  in  the  verdant  eyes  of  innocent  purchasers  of  the 
stock,  and  in  its  partial  and  incomplete  realization  in  the 
pockets  of  those  of  the  projectors  who  had  been  so  fortunate 
as  to  find  within  their  circle  of  acquaintance  the  verdant  pur- 
chasers alluded  to. 

Take  it  all  together,  therefore,  the  Chesslebury  estate  was  a 
most  desirable  estate  ;  and  bad  Mr.  Stretch  been  disposed  to 
sell  out  his  business,  it  would  have  been  a  magnificent  item  in 
the  good  will.  There  being  no  legal  fish-skin  with  which  to 
settle  such  a  cup,  the  usual  course  was  taken,  and  Mr.  Stretch 
and  the  three  executors  with  their  legal  advisers,  sipped  at  it 
by  turns,  with  the  intention  of  drinking  it  off  and  leaving  the 
dregs  and  grounds  at  the  bottom  ;  and  thus,  in  the  process  of 
time,  did  the  Chesslebury  estate  become  settled. 

To  accomplish  this  to  his  better  satisfaction  Mr.  Stretch 
with  decent  haste  caused  the  word  Counselor,  in  Mr.  Chessle- 
10 


218.  CONE     CUT     CORNKRS. 

bury's  sign  to  be  obliterated  by  the  painting  over  it  of  the 
word  Executors,  and  affixing  an  s  to  the  name  of  the  deceased,  to 
put  him  in  the  possessive  case.  Moreover  Mr.  Stretch,-  at  the 
same  time,  for  convenience  of  having  it  all  charged  to  the  es- 
tate in  one  bill,  caused  his  own  name  with  the  full  title  of 
Attorney  &  Counselor,  to  be  delineated  in  gilt  letters  upon 
three  several  glossy  tin  tickets,  and  the  same  nailed  up,  one 
in  bright  contrast  over  his  late  principal's  name,  and  the 
others  at  convenient  spots  upon  the  stair-way,  sticking  out 
where  they  were  likely  to  be  in  the  way  of  catching  the  at- 
tention and  the  hats  of  passers  by.  This  done,  he  proceeded 
to  make  himself  very  much  at  home  in  the  office,  and  to 
know,  or  appear  to  know,  himself,  as  much,  and  allow  others 
to  know  as  little,  as  possible,  about  the  affairs  of  the  estate. 

The  three  executors  who  found  themselves  named  in  the 
will,  held  respectively  brief  confidential  interviews  with  Mr. 
Stretch,  in  which  it  seemed  that  he  knew  all  about  the  estate, 
and  that  the  duties  of  the  position  offered  them  were  merely 
nominal.  It  appearing  further,  in  answer  to  chance  inquiries 
addressed  to  Mr.  Stretch,  that  under  the  law  of  the  State, 
executors  were  entitled  to  certain  satisfactory  commissions 
upon  sums  collected  and  paid  out  by  them,  they  severally 
made  their  own  little  computations  of  the  probable  com- 
missions upon  the  Chesslebury  estate,  valuing  the  same  at  the 
Stretch  estimate,  and  adding  in  a  margin  for  perquisites, 
drippings,  drainings  and  strainings.  They  thereupon  came  to 
the  conclusion,  as  they  emulously  hastened  to  assure  Mrs. 
Chesslebury,  that  they  should  be  very  happy  indeed  to  be  of 
any  service  in  their  power,  in  bringing  the  affairs  of  their 
much  lamented  friend^to  a  settlement,  a  task  doubtless  of 


C  ONE     CUT     C  OttNEUS.  219 

much  weight,  but  one  which  would  be  cheerfully  borne  by 
truq  friendship ;  and  so  far  from  shrinking  from  the  burden 
of  the  cares  of  so  extensive  and  complicated  interests,  they 
begged  to  be  Called  on  for  any  thing  and  every  thing. 

In  due  tune  these  disinterested  gentlemen  qualified,  and 
thereafter  proceeded  to  hold  weekly  meetings  after  bank 
hours,  for  a  short  time,  in  the  somewhat  humorous  expecta- 
tion of  arriving,  by  that  means,  at  a  clear  view  of  the  contents 
of  the  estate.  But  the  books  and  papers  were  in  a  condition 
of  Chessleburyan  magnificence  and  indefiniteness.  It  was  im- 
possible to  learn  from  them  any  thing  more  than  vague 
estimates  and  contingent  calculations.  So  that  after  a  meet- 
ing of  half  an  hour,  and  a  foggy  musing  over  papers  and  books, 
the  first  executor,  who  was  one  of  your  clear-headed  men  who 
saw  things  at  a  glance,  would  fix  himself  in  an  easy-chair, 
light  a  cigar,  and  commence  with  a  statement  that  the  whole 
affair  lay  in  a  nutshell,  and  would  go  on  to  show  how  plain  it 
was  that  the  Mintermunny  and  the  Carrol  Plumme  estate 
were  not  exactly  the  same,  but  that  probably  the  lands  of 
the  Mintermunny  were  partly  those  of  the  Plumme  estate, 
having  undoubtedly  been  exchanged  by  the  deceased,  admin- 
istrating upon  that  estate,  for  Grand  Palava  Cinnebar  stock,  as 
being  a  secure  and  profitable  investment  for  the  funds  of  the 
Plumme  estate,  and  that  consequently ; — when  just  at  this 
juncture,  the  second  executor,  who  was  one  of  your  driving 
men,  a  great  hand  at  dispatching  business,  and  had  a  repu- 
tation for  doing  more  in  a  day  than  almost  any  other  man  in. 
the  street,  principally  because,  of  the  fifty  things  lie  turned 
his  hand  to,  nine  and  forty  were  dropped  in  a  hurry  to  take 
hold  of  the  next  one — just  at  this  juncture,  this  most  inde- 


220  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

fatigable  man,  suddenly  pulling  out  his  watch,  would  remem- 
ber he  must  take  the  four  o'clock  train  to  Tarrytown  ; — where- 
upon the  third  executor,  one  of  your  cautious,  deliberate, 
wary  men,  who  will  never  see  any  thing  except  in  daylight, 
arid  then  are  not  sure  about  it  unless  the  sun  shines,  who  want 
to  know  all  about  a  thing  before  they  speak,  and  who  would 
not  kick  a  foot-ball  without  looking  at  it  all  round,  admonishes 
Mr.  Stretch  that  he  must  make  an  exhibit  to  show  all  these 
things,  just  how  they  stand.  Mr.  Stretch  promising  to  have 
them  all  straightened  out  at  the  next  meeting,  they  were 
accustomed  to  leave  him.  Then  he  generally  charged  the 
estate  with  another  week's  services,  and  counted  up  his  dis- 
bursements both  actual  and  constructive,  including  all  omnibus 
rides  that  it  seemed  likely  it  might  have  been  necessary  to 
take,  if  things  had  been  a  little  otherwise  ;  and  from  thence 
until  the  hour  of  closing  the  office,  he  would  relapse  into  the 
classical  recreation  of  writing  a  Latin  maxim  a  great  many 
times  upon  his  blotting-paper,  with  a  free  interlinear  transla- 
tion beneath  it. 

"DE  MORTUIS  NIL  NISI  BONUM." 

"Ofihe  dead  there  is  nothing  left  but  their  bones." 


XX. 


NOVEMBER,   1851. 


"MOTHER," 

said  Paul,  at 
breakfast   one 
morning  soon 
after  the  death  of  Mr. 
Chesslebury,   "  I  think 
I  had  better  give  up 
my  place  at  Bagglehall 
&  Floric's. 

"  Oh,  Paul !"  said  Susie. 
"  Well,  my  son  ?" 
"  Because,"  said  Paul,  "  I  think  it  is  not  a  right  business. 
It  is  a  very  good  place,  and  I  think  I  could  get  on  well  with 
them.     But  I  did  not  know  what  the  business  was,  or  I  would 
not  have  engaged." 

"  Why  ?"  said  Susie.     "  Groceries  is  a  first-rate  business,  I 
should  think." 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul.     "  But  they  sell  liquors  and  wines,  and 
what  is  more,  they  don't  do  it  honestly.     I  can't  stay  there." 


222  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Well,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Bundle,  "  I  want  you  to  do 
just  what  you  think  is  right,  and  we  shall  get  along  as  well 
as  we  can.  I  was  afraid  it  would  be  too  hard  for  you." 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  that,  mother.  In  fact  that 's  just  the  beauty 
of  the  place.  There  's  a  chance  to  do  something  there.  They 
are  willing  to  let  a  fellow  meddle  with  things  if  he  '11  only 
meddle  right.  I  could  improve  there,  I  know.  But  I  think 
the  business  is  wrong.  I  don't  know  but  any  other  trade  is 
just  as  bad  in  one  way  or  another.  If  it  is,  I  'in  sorry.  But 
I  can't  do  business  in  the  way  they  do."  And  Paul  briefly 
recounted  to  his  mother  what  was  the  most  important  branch 
of  the  respectable  family  grocers'  business,  and  what  he  had 
seen  of  the  conduct  of  it. 

Mother  and  Susie  concurring  in  Paul's  judgment,  he  hast- 
ened off  to  the  store,  and  arrived  there  just  in  time  to  perform 
the  round  of  his  preliminary  duties  in  preparing  the  store  for 
the  business  of  the  day.  Pending  these  he  busied  his  thoughts 
with  a  much-dreaded  interview  with  Mr.  Floric.  At  last  hav- 
ing magnified  the  importance  of  the  occasion  in  his  thoughts 
by  long  delay,  and  having  swept  twice,  and  dusted  three  times, 
and  arranged  the  fig-drums,  prune-boxes  and  pineapple 
cheeses  in  four  or  five  different  ways,  he  took  off  his  apron, 
buttoned  up  his  coat,  and  marched  back  to  the  counting- 
room. 

He  found  Mr.  Floric  there  apparently  in  a  mood  of  great 
good-humor  with  himself  and  the  trade.  For  he  had  that 
morning  purchased  down  town  half  a  dozen  casks  of  Otard 
Brandy,  Avhich  casks  having  upon  them  the  custom-house  cer- 
tificates of  yesterday,  the  genuineness  of  the  importation  was 
thus  beyond  doubt  established,  and  they  would  capitally  fill 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  223 

several  orders  from  the  firm's  best  customers,  who  wanted  the 
highest-priced  article,  while  at  the  same  time  the  same  casks 
by  virtue  of  having  been  emptied  of  their  original  and  genuine 
contents  three  hours  after  they  were  out  of  the  custom-house, 
and  having  then  been  sold  with  the  certificates  fresh  upon 
them  to  a  dealer  in  government  endorsements  of  this  descrip- 
tion, who  filled  the  casks  promptly  with  a  home-made  article, 
Mr.  Floric  had  been  able  to  procure  the  six  casks  of  Otard 
at  a  very  insignificant  sum.  When  Paul  entered  the 
little  counting-room,  that  gentleman  was  figuring  out  upon 
the  margin  of  a  newspaper,  the  interesting  problem  of  how 
many  hundred  per  cent,  of  profit  there  was  in  selling  seventy 
cent  brandy  in  ten  dollar  casks  at  five  dollars  and  a  half  a 
gallon. 

"  Well,  young  man !"  condescended  the  grocer,  looking  up 
with  one  jolly  red  eye,  and  shutting  the  other  very  tight,  as  if 
to  keep  his  calculation  in  sight,  and  not  let  it  drop  in  the  in- 
terruption. 

"  Mr.  Floric,"  said  Paul,  beginning  just  as  he  had  rehearsed 
it  outside,  and  without  regard  to  that  salutation.  "  Mr.  Floric, 
you  remember  when  you  engaged  me  it  was  to  be  at  first  on 
trial ;  because  I  did  n't  know  much  about — " 

"  Oh,  well  Bundle,  I  forgot  to  say  to  you  that  Mr.  Baggie- 
hall  and  I  are  perfectly  satisfied.  You  '11  do.  You  '11  do." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Paul.  "  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you. 
But  if  you  please,  sir,  I  should  prefer  not  making  any  arrange- 
ment. I  don't  like — " 

"  What !"  exclaimed  the  little  man,  opening  both  eyes  wide, 
and  dropping  the  calculation  out  of  view. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  said  Paul,  determined  to  speak  the  truth. 


224  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  right,  sir.  It  is  bad,  I  know  it  is,  and  I 
don't  believe  any  good  ever  came  of  it.  It  killed  my  uncle, 
you  know  that  too,  sir,  and  it  ruined  my  father,  and — and  I 
would  rather  not  have  any  thing  to  do  with  it." 

Mr.  Floric  seemed  as  if  he  had  been  struck  by  astonishment, 
such  a  blow,  that  it  drove  all  the  breath  out  of  his  body,  and 
he  had  not  yet  recovered  it 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  your  kindness  to 
me.  I  would  have  tried  to  be  satisfactory  to  you,  and  I  think 
I  would.  But  I  don't  think  liquor-selling  is  right,  sir,  and  I 
would  rather  not  have  any  part  or  lot  in  the  matter." 

Mr.  Floric,  still  panting  from  the  effects  of  his  blow,  here 
found  opportunity  to  reply. 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  said  he,  "  I  am  sorry  you  feel  so  about  it. 
Because  you  and  I  would  have  got  along  most  excellently 
well  together,  I  am  sure,  except  for  these  little  prejudices  of 
yours.  You  '11  outgrow  them  some  of  these  days." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Paul,  earnestly. 

"  When  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,"  continued  Mr.  Floric,  not 
noticing  the  interruption,  "  and  as  experienced,"  he  added  as 
an  afterthought,  "  you  '11  understand  these  things  better.  It 's 
the  same  in  all  trades.  We  must  do  it  We  must  live.  If 
one  don't  do  it  another  will.  So  it  don't  make  any  odds. 
You  'd  better  go  home  and  get  calmed  down.  You  '11  think 
better  of  this  to-morrow.  You  're  excited,  I  see,  by  your  un- 
cle's death.  That 's  all." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Paul,  resolutely,  "  it  is  not  that.  I  am  not 
very  old,  I  know,  but  I  have  had  all  the  experience  I  want 
in  this  business.  I  shall  not  think  any  better  of  it  Good 
day." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  225 

"  Spunky  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Floric,  as  Paul  closed  the  count- 
ing-room door  behind  him.  "  Pity."  And  then  he  resumed 
his  calculation,  and  dismissed  Paul  from  his  mind. 

"  Halloo,  Blunder,"  interposed  the  voice  of  Mr.  Hococks,  as 
Paul  was  leaving  the  store  with  his  apron  in  a  newspaper 
parcel  under  his  arm.  "  Halloo,  Blunder." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Paul,  respectfully,  not  inclined  at  that  mo- 
ment to  contradict  the  imputation. 

"  So  you  've  made  your  fortune  quick ;  eh  2  I  tell  you, 
boy,"  he  added,  confidentially,  "when  you  set  up  on  your 
own  account,  don't  put  too  much  sugar  of  lead  in  the  Cham- 
pagne. It's  cheap,  but  it's  dangerous.  Spoils  your  cus- 
tomers." 

Paul  looking  at  his  instructor,  rightly  judged  him  to  be  in 
too  happy  a  condition  to  appreciate  a  reply,  and  so  turned 
away  in  silence,  and  walked  down  the  street. 

Gladly  relieved  of  his  engagement,  and  entertaining  dark 
shadows  of  the  wicked  wish  that  some  rumored  law,  fanatical 
and  despotic  though  it  might  be,  could  ruin  the  business  of 
the  respectable  dealers,  Paul  walked  down  Broadway  to- 
ward Liberty-street.  On  the  steps  of  the  Chessleburyan  of- 
fice, Mr.  Stretch  stood,  just  arrived  from  a  late  and  leisurely 
breakfast  in  Beaver-street. 

Paul  was  passing  the  doorway  with  no  other  notice  of  its 
occupant  than  a  sidelong  glance,  when  he  was  accosted  with 
much  warmth. 

"  Ah,  Bundle,  my  dear  fellow,"  cried  Mr.  Stretch,  jerking 
over  the  heads  of  the  passers-by  the  remains  of  the  cigar  that 
had  been  superseded  by  his  toothpick,  "  how  are  you  ? 
Where  are  you  {roino;  ?" 

10* 


226  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Mr.  Rundle  was  well,  he  said;  but  where  he  was  going 
Mr.  Stretch  could  only  judge  from  his  passing  on  without 
stopping. 

Mr.  Stretch  was  not  inclined  to  allow  his  greeting  to  be  so 
lightly  returned.  For  some  purpose  he  seemed  particularly 
desirous  of  more  than  a  mere  recognition.  So  thought  Paul 
on  being  called  earnestly  to  come  back. 

"  I  want  to  see  you,"  urged  Mr.  Stretch. 

Paul,  with  his  accustomed  good  nature,  complied. 

Mr.  Stretch  urged  an  invitation  to  go  up  stairs,  which  Paul 
cordially  declined. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Stretch,  "  I  wish  you  would  come  in  some 
time.  I  think  I  'd  better  talk  with  you.  There  are  interests 
that — er  I — er  could  protect.  Interests  of  some  importance ; — 
that  is  to  say  that  I  have  reason  to  believe — or  rather  I  am 
induced  to  suppose — I  should  say  to  conjecture — that  mat- 
ters connected  with  your  interests — er — may  need  my  atten- 
tion, and  in  the  position  in  which  I  stand  I  may  be  of  service. 
Come  up  stairs." 

Paul  was  very  much  obliged,  looked  up  at  Trinity  clock, 
and  thought  he  would  go  up  a  few  moments. 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Mr.  Stretch  after  they  were  in  the  office, 
"  What  I  mean  is  this.  You  see  me  here.  I  am  in  charge 
of  these  interests,  and  I  know  whatever  there  is  to  be  known 
of  the  late  lamented  and  so  forth.  His  affairs  with  other 
people  included.  Now  I  want  to  see  justice  done.  I  want  to 
have  things  set  right  where  they  ain't  right.  That 's  all  I 
want  You  understand." 

Paul  did  not  understand  a  word,  so  he  said  "  Perfectly." 

"  That 's  all,"  said  Mr.  Stretch. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  227 

i'aul  seemed  to  have  been  expecting  something  more,  for 
lie  prolonged  an  awkward  silence. 

"  You  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Stretch,"  said  Paul,  speaking  at  last, 
"  that  things  have  come  to  your  knowledge  in  a  capacity 
of  confidence,  which  you  think  I  may  be  interested  to  know? 
and  which  for  a  consideration,  you  are  willing  to  disclose." 

"  Not  at  all,  Mr.  Rundle.  Not  any  such  thing.  I  havo 
nothing  to  disclose.  I  know  nothing  one  way  or  the  other. 
I  only  guess,  and  I  guess  only  what  any  other  professional 
man  of  experience  would  guess,  that  where  a  party  has  had 
dealings  with  another  party,  and  there  has  been  difficulties, 
and  one  party  has  lost,  we  may  say  there  is  a  presumption  the 
other  party  has  gained  by  it.  And  where  one  party  goes  off 
and  leaves  his  interests  at  loose  ends,  the  other  party  has  it  all 
his  own  way.  All  I  say  is  I  Avant  justice  done.  I  might  say 
it 's  no  difference  to  me,  and  then  it  is  n't ;  but  then  again  it 
is  ^  for  you  see  as  a  professional  man,  I  feel  a  pleasure  in  see- 
ing things  right,  and  having  that  done  which  is  right  between 
man  and  man,  or  between  ghost  and  ghost,  which  is  more 
likely  to  be  the  case  in  this  matter.  Your  father  has  n't  been 
heard  of  yet,  has  he  T 

"  No,"  said  Paul. 

"  I  've  nothing  to  disclose.  But  if  I  can  be  of  any  service 
to  your  family,  I  should  be  very  happy.  What  the  true  state 
of  the  case  ma}'  be,  I  have  no  knowledge.  You  see  I  don't 
want  to  know  unless  it  is  my  business.  If  I  am  employed 
then  it  is  my  business  to  find  out." 

"  Well,"  said  Paul,  "  I  believe  I  understand  you  now.  I 
thought  my  father  did  not  get  all  his  due  with  Mr.  Chesslebury." 

Mr.  Stretch  shook  his  head. 


228   ,  CONE   CUT   co  Hire  us. 

"  And  if  lie  had  the  papers  now,  lie  might  make  it  all  right  yet." 

Mr.  Stretch  nodded. 

"  But  we  don't  know  where  he  is,"  said  Paul.  "  If  we 
knew  't  was  so,  we  could  n't  do  any  thing  without  him." 

Mr.  Stretch  whistled  one  short  note. 

"  Say,  when  did  your  father  clear  out  ?" 

"  It  was  in  eighteen  forty-eight,"  said  Paul. 

"  The  summer  was  n't  it  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  it 's  three  years  T 

"  Over  three  years,"  responded  Paul. 

"  And  he  has  not  been  heard  from  V1 

"  No,"  said  Paul.     "  It  is  three  years  on  fourth  of  July." 

"  "Well,"  said  Mr.  Stretch,  carelessly,  "  I  should  say  that 
comes  clearly  within  the  statute.  I  should  advise,  if  I  were 
asked,  you  understand,  I  should  advise  a  separation.  A  di- 
vorce can  be  obtained  without  any  difficulty.  It  is  a  matter 
of  course — almost  a  mere  form.  If  nothing  is  heard  from 
him  in  a  few  weeks,  I  should  certainly  advise  no  delay.  You 
did  n't  know  that  an  absence,  in  fact  one  might  say  a  deser- 
tion, like  the  present  case,  was  ground  for  a  separation." 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  "  I  was  not  aware  of  it." 

"Yes,"  returned  Mr.  Stretch.  "That  was  what  I  called 
you  back  to  suggest.  It  is  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world, 
and  there  is  no  difficulty  or  doubt  about  it.  After  that  is 
done,  I  apprehend  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in — in  consider- 
ing what  to  do  next.  That 's  the  only  course." 

So  Paul  went  away.     He  was  quite  uncertain  whether  Mr. 
Stretch's  suggestion  of  a  divorce  ought  to  be  resented  as  an 
insult,  or  accepted  as  a  favor* 
•*       jfc*~. 


CONE     CUT     CORN  BUS.  229 

When  a  person  whose  mill  of  petty  dishonesties  has  long 
been  driven  by  the  pressure  of  contracted  means,  comes  un- 
expectedly into  a  condition  of  prosperity,  as  had  Mr.  Stretch, 
he  usually  finds  himself  somewhat  regretful  of  the  littleness 
of  the  grists  he  has  been  grinding,  and  is  very  ready  to  be- 
come penitent  for  the  sin  of  having  cheated  for  so  small  gains. 
Mr.  Stretch,  Paul  thought,  must  be  in  this  frame  of  mind, 
and  desirous  to  make  up  for  an  ill-paid  connivance  in  his  late 
employer's  enterprising  operations,  by  better  paid  services  in 
the  other  direction.  Being,  however,  more  mistrustful  of  Mr. 
Stretch's  honesty  than  he  was  even  of  his  own  legal  knowl- 
edge, he  resolved  to  repair  at  once  to  Mr.  Edgecutt  for  advice. 
Mr.  Edgecutt  was  a  young  lawyer  whose  acquaintance  (in 
the  Chessleburyan  sense  of  the  word)  Paul  had  casually  made 
in  the  capacity  of  messenger  in  the  store  of  Haggle  & 
Change.  He  found  Mr.  Edgecutt  in  his  office,  a  pleasant 
little  room  in  a  third  story  in  Nassau-street.  He  was  a  very 
young-looking  man  of  about  twenty-five  years  of  age.  Hag- 
gle &  Change  had  employed  him  to  collect,  for  they 
thought  he  would  be  cheap ;  but  in  the  course  of  a  few 
months  by  assiduity  and  fidelity  he  had  quite  monopolized 
the  whole  law  business  of  the  firm. 

"  Mr.  Edgecutt,"  said  Paul,  as  he  took  a  seat  by  that  gen- 
tleman, "  I  have  some  questions  to  submit  to  you.  My  name 
is  Bundle." 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Rundle  ?"  said  the  lawyer. 

He  was  a  pleasant-looking  man,  of  a  sharp,  keen  eye.  - 

Paul  thought  that  unless  he  could  contrive  to  state  his  case 
in  the  legal  manner,  a  lawyer  could  not  understand  it.  So  he 
commenced : 


230  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Suppose  that  A  makes  a  mortgage — " 

"  Who  ?"  interrupted  Mr.  Edgecutt. 

"  A,  I  said,"  answered  Paul.  "  Well,  suppose  it 's  me. 
Suppose  I  make  a  mortgage  to  somebody,  to  secure  him  or 
her  for  funds  they  put  in  my  possession,  and  they  leave  the 
papers  with  me.  And  then  I  die.  Have  they  a  light  to  the 
securities  again,  and  to  payment  of  them  ?" 

Mr.  Edgecutt  glanced  at  his  client  a  moment,  and  then  said 
quietly,  "  No." 

"  Why  not?"  asked  Paul,  with  some  disappointment. 

"  Because  you  are  an  infant,  and  you  can  not  make  a  valid 
mortgage.  You  are  not  of  age,  are  you  ?" 

"  Oh !"  said  Paul,  quite  nonplussed  by  this  unexpected 
difficulty.  "  Well,  suppose  I  was  of  age." 

"  Mr.  Rundle,"  said  the  lawyer  pleasantly,  "  I  suppose  you 
wish  to  consult  me  professionally.  You  make  a  mistake  which 
almost  all  clients  do  at  first,  of  concealing  your  case,  and  try- 
ing to  get  an  opinion  upon  a  statement  of  what  you  deem  to  be 
the  essential  points.  If  I  were  to  give  an  opinion  upon  such  a 
statement,  you  could  not  rely  upon  it,  you  see.  In  the  case  you 
have  in  mind,  you  are  in  need  of  advice,  not  only  upon  the  law 
applying,  but  upon  what  are  the  important  facts  which  govern 
its  application.  It  is  probably  a  matter  of  confidence  and  deli- 
cacy, and  you  may  not  like  to  reveal  all  the  circumstances.  I 
can  not,  however,  advise  you,  unless  you  like  to  do  so.  I 
ought  even  to  know  the  names,  or  at  least  the  relations  of  the 
parties,  and  the  connection  you  bear  to  the  case,  because  with- 
out knowing  that,  I  can  not  tell  how  full,  or  correct,  or  straight- 
forward your  story  may  be.  Any  hypothetical  case  you 
can  make  and  put,  supposing  it  to  contain  all  the  important 


CONE'  CUT     CORNERS.  231 

points,  will  be  sure  to  omit  some  essential  features  of  the  real 
case." 

"  Well,"  said  Paul,  "  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  I  think  you  had  better,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  Whatever  you 
say  will  be  confidential  with  me.  If  you  wish  my  real  opin- 
ion, you  must  tell  me  your  real  story.  I  can  not  give  you 
any  advice  otherwise,  and  the  lawyer  who  will,  is  not  worth 
consulting.  He  will  surely  lead  you  wrong." 

"  I  think  you  are  right,  sir,"  said  Paul.  "  I  Avill  tell  you 
every  thing,  and  then,  if  you  can  give  me  your  opinion,  I 
should  like  it." 

Paul  then  recounted  the  circumstances  which  led  him  to 
believe  that  his  father  had  placed  nearly  all  his  funds  in  Mr. 
Chesslebury's  hands,  and  had  taken  a  mortgage  upon  the  Ches- 
slebury  house  to  secure  it,  but  had  left  the  mortgage  with  Mr. 
Chesslebury  to  be  recorded,  which  that  gentleman  had  never 
done,  and  Paul  said  that  he  thought  the  mortgage  was  now 
among  the  papers  under  Mr.  Stretch's  control,  and  that  it  was 
the  reason  of  his  conversation. 

Mr.  Edgecutt  questioned  him  upon  various  matters,  and, 
without  expressing  any  opinion  upon  the  chances  of  success, 
said  he  would^  investigate  the  case,  and  if  Paul  would  call  to 
see  him  the  next  day  but  one,  he  would  undoubtedly  have 
some  information  to  report  to  him. 

Thence  Paul  in  perplexity,  doubled  in  degree,  because  its 
cause  had  evidently  perplexed  also  Mr.  Edgecutt,  went  with 
some  anxiety  and  uneasiness  to  the  postoffice. 

At  the  postoffice  Paul  found  a  letter  addressed  in  a  well- 
known  hand,  to  his  mother.  With  it  he  hastened  home.  The 


232  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

letter  was  from  father.     It  contained  a  twenty  dollar  bill.     It 
Avas  dated  Portland,  Maine,  October  9th,  1851. 
Mother  read  it  to  Paul  and  Susie  as  follows  : 

"DEAREST  MARGARET. 

"  If  you  receive  this  with  any  interest,  and  read  it,  it 
will  be  more  than  I  deserve.  A  single  thought,  a  solitary 
tear  is  more  than  I  can  claim  now.  For  unless  you  offer  it,  I 
am  an  outcast  and  an  outlaw  from  you. 

"The  best  account  of  myself  in  the  present,  you  will 
gather  from  my  story.  I  will  try  to  tell  you  briefly  where  I 
have  been,  what  I  have  done,  how  I  am  here,  and  why  I  send 
this,  but  do  not  come  myself. 

"  It  was  a  long  time  ago  I  left  you.  I  went  off  fourth  of 
July.  I  was  half  crazy,  and  said  to  myself,  'She  shan't  be 
troubled  with  my  troubles  any  more.  It 's  Independence 
Day,  and  she  shall  be  independent.'  I  knew  that  if  I  left 
you,  and  was  not  heard  from,  you  might  abandon  me ; 
and  I  said  in  my  heart,  I  'd  give  her  a  chance,  God  forgive 
me. 

"  Would  to  Heaven  there  was  less  Independence  Day  and 
more  law,  in  New  York. 

"Since  that  time,  for  three  years  I  have  been  getting 
deeper  and  deeper  into  trouble.  I  staid  about  New  York  a 
while,  working  a  little,  and  being  idle  a  good  deal.  Then  I 
shipped  on  a  vessel  and  went  South.  I  spent  some  months  in 
New  Orleans.  At  last  I  resolved  to  come  back  to  you.  I 
could  stay  away  no  longer.  I  came  to  New  York  again. 
We  got  in  in  the  evening.  On  my  way  up  I  wondered  if  you 
were  at  home,  and  how  you  would  receive  me.  The  doubt  never 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  233 

entered  my  mind  before.  I  did  not  really  mistrust  you  even 
then  ;  but  I  hesitated.  I  knew  I  had  no  right  to  expect  your 
greeting.  I  wanted  time  to  collect  my  thoughts  and  consider 
what  to  say  when  I  saw  you.  I  faltered.  I  was  out  of 
breath  and  faint.  I  looked  at  my  poor  dress,  for  I  came, 
like  the  prodigal,  in  rags,  and  was  ashamed  of  it.  I 
thought  of  you,  and  wondered  bitterly  whether  I  should  find 
you  well,  prosperous  and  happy ;  above  me  to  look  down  on 
me ;  or  forsaken,  poor,  and  sunk  to  my  level.  Oh  !  Mar- 
garet, if  you  knew  what  I  suffered  in  that  hour,  you  would 
forgive  me  that  I  ever  thought  so  of  you  as  I  did.  I  confess 
it.  Because  I  had  abandoned  you  and  deserved  no  notice 
from  you,  I  harshly  said  you  would  turn  me  away. 

"  I  was  passing  The  Shades.  What  a  name  !  I  hesitated. 
I  went  in  to  rest  and  collect  my  thoughts.  I  did  not  come 
out  sober.  That  was  the  end  of  that  hope — my  last  hope  I 
thought.  I  grew  worse  than  ever. 

"Any  thing  dishonest,  or  any  thing  unfaithful  to  you  I 
have  not  done,  but  all  shame  and  misery  short  of  that  I  have 
been  through.  But  I  ought  not  to  speak  of  my  suffering,  for 
the  keenest  part  of  it  has  been  the  thought — which  in  sober 
hours  I  could  never  forget — that  you  were  abandoned  to  your 
fate  by  me.  Heaven  knows  that  women,  unprotected  in  a 
great  city,  get  little  grace  from  men.  It  made  me  burn  with 
shame  to  think  that  I  had  left  you  and  my  daughter  Susie  to 
such  fate  as  you  might  find ;  and  that  by  my  indolence  and 
vice  I  had  put  upon  Paul,  my  son,  that  dear  burden  of  care, 
which  I,  in  infatuation,  threw  off,  and  left  him  to  bear  alone, 
with  no  encouragement,  but  disgrace  from  me.  And  then  to 
recollect  that  even  this  were  better  than  to  have  remained  a 


234  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

shameless  burden  on  you,  as  I  Avas,  impoverishing  your  means, 
disgracing  my  children's  name,  degrading  your  minds  to  a 
familiarity  with  my  vice  and  shame.  All  this  was  my  keen- 
est misery.  In  every  wretched  'day  of  three  long  years  it 
punished  me  for  past  intemperance,  and  yet  drove  me  to 
renew  it  more  grossly  than  ever. 

''  After  I  turned  back  from  going  home,  I  thought  I  was 
lost  indeed.  I  did  not  care.  I  said  I  was  glad  I  didn't  go. 
I  said  that  you  were  too  wise  to  show  me  any  mercy ;  and  I 
was  glad  I  had  come  to  my  senses  in  time.  I  went  to  sea 
again. 

"  I  resolved  I  would  never  return  to  New  York.  It  was  a 
bitter  and  a  rash  resolution.  I  did  not  think  how  it  would 
serve  me  in  better  times,  as  now  it  does.  This  voyage  was  on 
an  eastern  coasting  vessel.  In  the  great  storm,  two  months 
ago,  we  were  wrecked  near  this  place.  And  now,  at  last, 
comes  the  happy  part  of  my  story.  I  have  not  drunk  since. 
I  am,  thank  God,  safe,  in  Maine.  They  have  a  law  here  that 
no  liquor  shall  be  sold.  It  is  very  recently  passed,  but  it  is  a 
glorious  experiment ;  throughout  the  State  the  worst  of  earthly 
temptations  is  now  put  out  of  sight.  Oh,  Margaret,  I  'in  free 
here.  Only  such  wretches  as  I  was,  can  know  what  a  liberty 
it  is  to  walk  the  streets  and  not  meet  an  overpowering  devil 
on  e^very  corner,  hanging  out  his  sign.  In  New  York  I  was  a 
slave.  Here  I  can  go  from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other  and 
not  find  my  master ;  not  even  fear  to  meet  with  him.  I  am 
free  here. 

"  I  have  been  here  two  months.  I  should  have  written 
before — forgive  me,  Margaret,  that  I  did  not.  But  at  first  I 
did  not  know  my  liberty.  I  know  it  now.  I  have  worked 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  235 

steady  and  sober.  The  trifle  I  enclose  is  the  savings  of  my 
first  wages.  I  send  all  to  you.  Though  I  must  stay  here, 
my  treasures  are  at  home. 

"  I  can  not  leave  Maine.  Margaret,  I  dare  not.  I  do  not 
dare  to  trust  myself  away.  But  you  can  come  here.  If  you 
are  living  to  receive  this,  come.  We  may  be  happy  here.  I 
need  you.  I  want  my  home  here.  How  long  I  can  stay  ex- 
iled and  alone,  I  don't  know.  Come  with  Paul  and  Susie. 
I  am  sure  of  work  and  gradual  prosperity  here,  if  God  pleases. 
Will  you  not  sell  the  business,  or  what  remains  of  it,  at  the 
best  you  can,  and  come  and  join  me  ?  Oh,  Margaret,  what 
mercy  I  am  asking.  I  who  should  come  to  you,  and  that 
most  humbly. 

"  It  was  almost  twenty-three  years  ago  that  I  came 
to  you,  proudly  at  that  time,  and  asked  you  to  be  mine.  I 
was  strong  in  myself  then.  How  happy  I  was  in  your  con- 
fiding consent.  Now  I  ask  again ;  humbly  this  time.  I 
have  nothing  to  offer,  every  thing  to  ask.  I  was  thinking  of 
this  yesterday,  when  I  was  hesitating  whether  to  dare  to  write 
to  you.  I  think  I  should  not,  except  that  I  now  believe  that, 
with  the  help  of  my  Saviour,  I  am  a  different  man  from  what 
I  have  been.  I  have  been  in  the  very  whirlpool  of  destruc- 
tion, but  I  am  now  safe  and  happy,  for  He  has  brought  me 
salvation. 

"  I  know,  Margaret,  this  will  rejoice  your  heart  more  than 
all  the  rest.  Our  heavenly  Father  has  dealt  most  mercifully 
with  me  through  all  the  desperateness  of  my  course.  When 
I  was  with  you  and  happy,  I  disliked  even  to  hear  His  name. 
When  I  became  ensnared  and  wretched,  and  abandoned  you, 
I  cursed  the  fate  that  ruled  me,  as  I  said.  Now,  since  I  have 


236  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

been  brought  by  his  kindness  into  a  place  of  safety,  and  have 
been  made  to  think  and  feel  again  like  a  man,  I  have  seen 
what  I  have  been,  and  I  know  now  where  my  strength  and 
true  happiness  is. 

"  But  I  can  not  help  thinking,  as  I  write,  that  after  all  you 
may  never  get  this ;  or,  getting  it,  you  may  say,  '  I  can  not 
regard  it  or,  regarding  it,  you  may  say,  '  I  am  glad  he  is 
safe  and  doing  well,  but  I  can  not  trust  myself  and  my  family 
to  him  again.'  If  so,  I  can  not  remonstrate.  But  do  write  to 
me  at  once.  I  dare  not  go  away  from  here,  or  I  would  hasten 
to  you. 

"Whatever  you  decide,  read  this  to  Paul  and  Susie.  I 
want  them  to  know  all.  May  God  bless  you  all ;  and  what- 
ever earthly  lot  he  has  in  store  for  us  here,  that  he  will  bring 
us  all  together  above,  redeemed  at  last,  is  my  constant  ami 
earnest  prayer. 

"  I  am,  dear  Margaret,  if  you  suffer  me,  again  and 
anew,  your  affectionate,  repentant,  faithful  and  loving  hus- 
band. 

"  THOMAS  RUNDLE. 

"  P.  S.  Don't  forget  my  love  to  the  children.  You  can 
give  them  better  counsel  than  I  can.  Do  not  spare  my  exam- 
ple if  it  can  do  them  good.  And  come,  Margaret,  come  if 
you  can." 

It  would  be  hard  to  describe  the  scene  which  followed  the 
reading  of  this  letter  from  the  long-lost  husband  and  father. 
Speechlessness  and  tears  can  not  be  written  down.  The  swift, 
glancing,  loving  thoughts  of  wife  and  daughter  and  son,  sym- 
pathetic and  mutually  conscious,  but  silent,  unspoken,  un- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  237 

hinted,  cau  not  be  spun  into  words  from  that  awkward  distaff, 
the  pen.  Joy  and  delight  so  exquisite  and  etherial  that  it  dis- 
tills in  tears  and  speaks  in  sighs,  are  not  to  be  held  up  ex- 
posed to  every  view. 

It  was  not  until  that  evening,  when  the  little  family  gath- 
ered as  usual  in  the  little  back-room  for  prayers ;  and  Mrs. 
Bundle  had  read  the  allotted  portion  of  Scripture,  and  all 
knelt  in  devotion,  that  father's  name  was  mentioned  ;  and  even 
then  sobs  came  instead  of  words ;  and  gratitude  and  all  tear- 
ful praise  outrunning  the  ready  lips,  from  honest  hearts  went 
up  to  heaven  quickest  on  silent  wings,  like  angels. 

The  next  morning,  although  there  was  no  definitely  ex- 
pressed consultation,  they  all  seemed  to  feel  that  it  was  de- 
cided that  as  soon  as  possible,  they  should  go  to  Maine.  Susie 
wrote  that  morning  to  father.  She  was  on  all  ordinaiy 
occasions  mother's  amanuensis,  but  this  time  mother  put  on 
her  glasses,  and  with  an  unsteady  hand,  added  a  postcript  of 
a  few  words  and  a  great  many  tears ;  and  Paul  took  the  letter 
to  the  office. 

At  the  same  time  he  told  Mr.  Edgecutt  of  the  news ;  and 
consequent  plans.  With  Mr.  Edgecutt's  assistance,  the  stock 
and  other  property  of  the  family  was  turned  into  money  at  no 
great  disadvantage  ;  and  after  paying  off  all  the  debts,  a  sum 
of  several  hundred  dollars  was  left.  With  this  in  hand,  the 
family  started  for  Maine ;  but  not,  however,  until  Paul  had 
sought  out  Mr.  Stretch,  and  effectually  disabused  his  mind  of 
the  prospect  or  expectation  of  being  retained  in  a  divorce  case 
among  the  connections  of  the  Chesslebury  family.  As  for  the 
interests  of  the  Bundles,  which  Mr.  Stretch  had  in  mind  to 
protect,  that  account  was,  by  advice  of  Mr.  Edgecutt,  left 


238  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

standing  until  Paul's  father  should  have  an  opportunity  to 
advise  some  action. 

So  Paul,  with  his  mother  and  sister,  left  the  city.  Although 
they  were  abandoning  their  home,  and  had  no  expectation  of 
returning  to  it  again,  not  even  Susie  felt  any  shadow  of  regret 
at  parting  with  New  York,  until,  as  the  steamboat  "  State  of 
Maine,"  by  which  they  went,  left  the  wharf,  she  was,  strange 
to  say,  surprised  to  see  Mr.  Edgecutt  on  the  shore  waving  his 
handkerchief  to  them. 


XXI. 

JANUARY,    1862. 


WHY  was 

Elder  Graynes 
cottage  built 
upon  the  hill, 
next  beyond 

the  meeting-house,  as  you  go 
up  out  of  the  village,  toward 
Captain  Mayferrie's  ? 

It  seems  impossible  to  say,  unless  it  was  because  the  ground 
just  there  was  too  steep  to  be  good  for  any  thing  else. 

It  may  be,  however,  that  considerations  of  convenience  and 
economy  in  the  construction  of  the  cellar,  had  some  influence 
in  determining  the  selection  of  this  site  for  the  parsonage  of 
Cone  Cut  Corners.  For  the  cottage  faced  the  road.  One  end 
of  it,  therefore,  stuck  into  the  hill  above,  and  the  other  end 
projected  out  of  the  hill  below.  This  made  it  a  very  easy 
task  to  build  the  cellar,  because  it  saved  digging.  Now 


240  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

country  ministers,  it  is  well  understood,  have  no  need  of 
spacious  cellars ;  or  of  cellars  warm  in  winter,  and  cool  in 
summer.  It  seems  to  be  generally  considered  better  for  that 
class  of  the  community  to  be  thrown  upon  the  care  of  Provi- 
dence as  much  as  possible.  And  if  the  few  creature-comforts 
which  Elder  Graynes'  cellar  contained,  did  freeze  in  January 
and  melt  in  July,  it  would  serve — so  probably  thought  the 
founders  of  the  edifice — continually  to  admonish  him  of  the 
dependence  of  man,  and  of  the  worthlessness  of  the  luxuries 
of  life. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  inquire  whether  this  philosophy  of  the 
pastoral  office  was  peculiar  to  Cone  Cut  Corners,  or  whether 
it  is  common  to  other  parishes.  The  sum  of  the  Cone  Cut 
theories  upon  the  subject  was,  that  one  becoming  a  -minister 
ought  no  longer  to  be  regarded  as  a  man,  possessing  the  feel- 
ings and  characteristics  of  other  men,  much  less  the  liberal 
rights  and  limited  responsibilities  of  common  Christians  ;  but 
that  he  was  thenceforward  to  become  a  peculiarity  ;  a  being, 
as  it  were,  half  man,  half  angel — man,  in  that  he  should  live 
and  labor  on  earth — angel,  in  that  he  should  subsist  on  noth- 
ing in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view.  He  was  to  be  a  man  in 
respect  to  his  tasks  and  means  of  labor — an  angel  in  regard 
to  his  finances  and  sources  of  happiness. 

In  accordance  with  this  view,  Elder  Graynes'  salary  was 
adjusted  at  the  lowest  possible  figure,  and  paid  with  as  little 
punctuality  as  practicable. 

For  the  Cone  Cut  philosophy  forbade  that  a  minister  should 
lay  up  money.  Other  men,  aye,  even  deacons,  were  expected 
to  be  remunerated  for  their  labors,  at  a  rate  above  their  im- 
mediate necessities.  If  Deacon  Ficksom  saved  something 


CONE     CUT    CO  11  NEKS.  241 

yearly,  if  he  laid  by  au  annual  surplus  to  invest  in  mortgages 
or  bank-stocks,  by  way  of  provision  for  the  wants  of  his  fami- 
ly, this  was  thrift ;  it  was  a  virtue.  But  for  Elder  Graynes 
to  do  the  same,  would  be  parsimony ;  worldliness  ;  a  down- 
right sin.  The  sheep  could  be  trusted,  the  shepherd  could 
not.  So  true  is  it  that  circumstances  alter  cases. 

The  good  Elder,  however,  had  long  ago  made  up  his  mind 
to  meet  with  equanimity  such  peculiarities  of  treatment  and 
regard  from  his  people,  as  these,  and  he  submitted  to  the  dic- 
tates of  the  Cone  Cut  philosophy  with  the  utmost  good- 
humor.  This  winter,  on  the  January  installment  falling  due, 
he  was  not  even  ruffled  by  the  information  that  the  treasury 
was  quite  empty. 

The  Cone  Cut  philosophy,  however,  did  not  consider  itself 
refuted  even  by  this  experience.  It  embodied  within  itself 
an  ample  and  systematic  provision  for  even  this  not  uncom- 
mon emergency.  When  all  other  means  failed,  when  contri- 
bution-boxes fainted  for  very  hunger  in  their  emptiness,  and 
subscription-papers  turned  pale  and  looked  permanently  blank 
with  astonishment  at  the  intellectual  condition  of  a  parish  in 
which  so  few  persons  seemed  to  know  how  to  write  their  own 
names,  when  the  list  of  those  who  would  give  was  exhausted, 
and  the  list  of  those  who,  although  they  would  not  give,  would 
lend,  was  drawn  to  the  last,  even  at  this  apparently  final  and 
ultimate  point  of  descent,  there  yet  remained  to  the  Cone  Cut 
philosophy  another  resource. 

It  was  in  the  Donation  Party. 

The  donation  party  was  a  peculiar  and  a  noble  contrivance. 
It  so  completely  settled  up  all  arrears,  balanced  accounts  with 
the  minister,  set  a  seal  upon  a  receipt  in  full  of  all  his  de- 
11 


242  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

mands  to  date,  and  carried  forward  still  a  handsome  balance 
of  gratitude  against  him,  that  it  is  not  strange  it  became  a 
favorite  institution  under  the  Cone  Cut  philosophy. 

In  the  present  exigency  of  affairs,  therefore,  Elder  Graynes 
was  not  at  all  surprised  to  hear  mysterious  intimations  of 
"  speedy  settlements,"  "  making  things  all  right  again,"  "  turn- 
ing over  a  new  leaf,"  "  starting  square,"  and  others  of  an 
equally  satisfactory  import ;  together  with  pithy  maxims,  to 
the  effect  that  "  what  could  not  be  done  in  one  Avay,  might  in 
another ;"  and  "  when  the  ladies  took  hold  of  a  thing,  some- 
times they  succeeded  when  the  men  had  failed,"  and  the  like. 
Readily  guessing  the  event  which  cast  these  shadows  before, 
the  Elder  quietly  resigned  his  chance  of  subsistence  for  the 
coming  quarter  to  Providence  and  the  donation  party. 

Among  his  parishioners  however,  or  at  least  among  so 
many  of  them  as  felt  in  duty  bound  to  make  some  substantial 
contribution  to  the  proposed  donations,  there  was  a  deeper 
feeling  of  personal  interest  in  the  project,  and  of  responsibility 
for  its  success.  And  there  was  indeed  no  little  consideration, 
and  no  little  discussion,  therefore,  before  each  of  the  good 
ladies  had  settled  with  her  husband  what  they  should  give. 

And  it  was  interesting  to  observe  the  struggle  which  took 
place  in  many  minds  betwixt  the  grateful  desire,  iipon  the 
one  hand,  to  make  a  more  brilliant  donation  to  their  good 
pastor  than  any  other  family  in  town,  and  the  noble  sense  of 
duty  which,  upon  the  other,  prompted  the  Christian  Cone 
Cutter  to  consecrate  all  his  resources  to  the  fulfillment  of  that 
elevated  obligation,  the  making  provision  for  his  own  family. 

Nowhere,  perhaps,  was  a  sense  of  this  latter  obligation  more 
generally  or  more  devoutly  felt  than  in  Cone  Cut  Corners. 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  243 

For,  having  read  that  "  if  any  one  provides  not  for  those  of 
his  own  house  he  is  worse  than  an  infidel,"  the  Cone  Cut 
philosophers  naturally  enough  concluded  that  he  that  did  so 
provide,  was  better  than  a  Christian.  Never  was  precept  of 
elementary  piety  more  faithfully  carried  out  in  daily  and 
hourly  practice  than  was  this,  in  Cone  Cut  Corners,  during 
the  few  weeks  which  preceded  the  donation  party. 

But  it  was  a  hard  matter  for  the  families  of  Cone  Cut  to 
decide  what  to  give. 

The  superficial  reasoncr  would  say,  "  Money."  But  here 
the  superficial  reasoner  would  speak  with  his  accustomed 
lack  of  sound,  sterling  common  sense.  For  upon  a  broad  and 
comprehensive  view  of  the  subject,  meaning  thereby  a  view  in 
which  the  mere  personal  advantage  and  convenience  of  the 
individual  donee  is  merged  in  the  consideration  of  the  in- 
terests and  natural  sentiments  of  the  great  body  of  donors, 
we  at  once  discern  that  money  is  by  no  means  an  expedient 
medium  for  parish  donations. 

Let  the  superficial  reasoner  attend,  if  he  have  capacity  for 
the  train  of  thought,  while  this  matter  is  made  elaborately 
clear. 

If,  sir,  at  a  donation  party,  Mrs.  Beatue  gives  a  two  dollar 
bill,  and  Mrs.  Bragin  a  quarter  eagle,  is  there  any  possibility 
of  denying  that  Mrs.  Bragin  has  given  the  most  ] 

Clearly  not. 

Is  there  any  opportunity  for  Mrs.  Beatue  to  suggest  that 
quarter  eagles  were  very  well  a  few  years  ago,  but  are  rather 
out  of  fashion  now  ?  Is  there  any  chance  for  Mrs.  Beatue  to 
whisper  to  her  little  coterie  of  especial  friends,  that  Mrs. 
Bragin  meant  well,  but  really  the  woman  has  no  taste  \  Is 


244  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

there  any  room  for  the  coterie  of  especial  friends  to  thumb  and 
finger  the  respective  gifts,  and  assure  Mrs.  Beatue  that  her 
two  dollar  bill,  though  less  showy,  will  wear  longer,  wash 
better,  and  be  far  more  serviceable  in  the  long  run  than  Mrs. 
Bragin's  quarter  eagle  ? 

Clearly  there  is  not. 

But  all  these  things  can  be  done  with  a  gift  of  dry  goods, 
and  Mrs.  Beatue  and  Mrs.  Bragin  can  each  return  home- 
ward from  the  donation  party  in  a  happy  faith  that  her  gift 
will  be  the  most  highly  valued  of  the  two. 

Still  there  were  in  Cone  Cut  Corners  several  superficial 
reasoners,  who,  in  the  blindness  of  their  minds,  resolved  on 
making  pecuniary  donations.  And  very  acceptable  and  use- 
ful donations  they  were  to  the  Elder,  notwithstanding  their 
unhappy  tendency  to  cause  heart-burnings  and  ill-feeling 
among  the  parishioners. 

But,  oh,  the  pies  and  the  loaves  of  cake  that  were  baked  for 
the  donation  party !  For  these  were  easy  to  make*  and  did 
not  cost  a  great  deal,  after  all,  and  then  a  good  many  would 
be  wanted  for  the  supper-table,  and  besides,  to  have  a  pie  or 
two,  and  some  nice  cake  left  over  for  the  week  after  the  do- 
nation, would  be  nice ;  so  thought  all  the  good  ladies.  And 
Mrs.  Graynes'  heart  sank  within  her,  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
long-expected  Thursday,  as  she  saw  one  good  female  parish- 
ioner after  another,  opening  the  little  white  gate  that  led  into 
the  parsonage  yard,  with  something  very  round  and  flat  bal- 
anced on  the  palm  of  her  hand,  and  covered  up  with  a  white 
napkin.  Nine  loaves  of  cake  and  thirteen  pies  in  this  man- 
ner contributed  themselves  to  the  support  of  the  Gospel  as 
embodied  in  the  person  of  Elder  Graynes. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  245 

A  large  portion  of  these,  indeed,  were  eaten  up  by  the  good 
parishioners  themselves,  during  the  evening  of  the  appointed 
Thursday.  For  at  a  donation  party,  the  immediately  eatable 
donations  are,  by  custom  immemorial,  arranged  upon  a  refresh- 
ment-table, from  which  a  hungry  parish  take  the  first  selec- 
tions and  the  choice  cuts ;  and  the  fragments,  and  the  noth- 
ings which  are  left,  are  gathered  up  for  the  future  mainte- 
nance of  the  pastor's  family.  For  Elder  Graynes  and  his 
wife,  however,  there  were  so  many  left,  that  the  worthy  pair 
ate  nothing  but  pie,  except  cake,  and  nothing  but  cake,  except 
pie,  for  nearly  a  week  after  the  festive  scene.  At  the  expira- 
tion of  this  time,  Mrs.  Graynes,  observing  that  there  were 
still  half  a  dozen  pies  which  manifested  slight  tokens  of  im- 
patience to  be  called  into  active  service,  ventured,  with  some 
hesitation,  to  distribute  them  among  several  families  of  her 
parish,  who  were  not  so  rich  but  that  the  occasional  assistance 
of  their  more  prosperous  brethren  and  sisters  was  welcome. 

But  could  Mrs.  Juke,  who  had  been  a  contributor  of  some 
of  these  very  pies,  tamely  submit  to  such  an  indignity  ?  By 
no  means.  It  was  but  a  short  time  before  that  lady,  by  some 
accident,  learned  that  Mrs.  Graynes  did  not  consider  the  Juke 
pies  good  enough  to  eat,  and  had  given  them  away  to  poor 
folks.  This  fact  having  been  commented  upon  in  the  Juke 
family  councils,  and  discussed  in  certain  neighborly  circles 
which  Mrs.  Juke  and  Miss  Georgiana  Juke  frequented,  very 
nearly  led  to  the  establishment  of  a  new  church  of  a  different 
denomination,  in  Cone  Cut  Corners.  It  did,  indeed,  form  the 
foundation  of  a  long-established  estrangement  of  the  Jukes 
from  the  pastor  and  his  wife,  and  a  consequent  non-attendance 
of  the  family  upon  public  worship  for  a  number  of  weeks. 


246  COKE     CUT     CORKERS. 

To  the  same  cause  is  to  be  attributed  the  transfer  of  Miss 
Georgiana  Juke  from  Mrs.  Graynes'  class  in  Sabbath-school, 
to  another  ;  a  piece  of  retaliation  which  it  was  not  so  hard  for 
Mrs.  Graynes  to  bear  after  all. 

Mrs.  Buxton,  of  course,  gave  a  Bible.  Mrs.  Buxton  always 
did  give  a  Bible.  She  had  a  little  memorandum-book  like  a 
tract-distributor's  diary,  in  which  she  put  down  the  Bibles  she 
gave  away  ;  and  there  were  seventy-nine  entered,  in  a  period 
of  a  little  less  than  eleven  years,  and  she  now  entered  the 
eightieth  as  having  been  devoted  to  the  support  of  the  Gospel 
as  embodied  in  the  person  of  Elder  Graynes. 

So  Mrs.  Buxton  selected  at  the  store  a  very  pretty  little 
copy  of  the  Scriptures,  with  a  brass  clasp,  the  price  of  which 
was  eighty-seven  cents — the  Diamond  Bible,  it  was  called, 
which  being  interpreted  means  "  The-too-fine-print-to-be-read- 
without-hurting-your-eyes  Bible."  And  Mrs.  Buxton  wrote 
on  the  yellow  fly-leaf: — 

"  To  the  Rev.  E.  L.  Graynes  and  his  wife, 

**From  their  loving  parishioner, 

"  JAKE  BUXTOK." 

— And  on  Thursday  evening  put  the  volume,  done  up  in 
half  enough  tissue-paper  to  hold  it,  on  the  table  with  the  other 
presents.  And  every  body  took  it  out  of  the  paper  and  said, 
"  How  neat,"  and  opened  the  clasp  to  look  inside,  and  said, 
"  How  appropriate,"  and  read  what  was  on  the  fly-leaf,  and 
said,  "  Pretty,  is  n't  it  ?"  and  turned  away  with  an  idea  that  a 
Bible  was,  after  all,  the  most  appropriate  present  for  a  minister. 

Now  Elder  Graynes  was  not  without  a  copy  of  the  Holy 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  247 

Scriptures  before  this  time.  Ho  had  already,  in  fact,  several 
copies,  as  follows  : 

An  old  family  Bible,  -with  an  apochrypha  of  births,  mar- 
riages, and  deaths,  between  the  Old  and  New  Testaments. 

A  small  Bible  which  his  mother  gave  him  when  he  was 
a  boy. 

A  medium-sized  Bible  which  he  bought  when  he  was  in 
the  theological  seminary. 

A  handsome  Bible  that  his  aunt  gave  him  when  he  was 
married. 

Four-  or  five  Bibles  that  had  been  given  him  by  loving 
parishioners  at  different  times. 

He  had  besides : — 

Three  Testaments — New  Testaments,  but  very  old  copies. 

A  Scott's  Commentary. 

And,  in  his  capacity  as  depositary  of  the  Bible  Society, 
ex  officio,  he  had  in  his  charge  for  sale  upon  occasion,  or  even 
to  be  given  away  to  such  as  were  too  poor  to  buy,  a  great  stock 
of  Bibles  and  Testaments,  neatly  arranged  in  the  book-case  in 
the  parlor. 

Moreover,  there  were  in  the  same  book-case  two  or  three 
Bibles  which  Mrs.  Graynes  had  before  she  was  married. 

But  notwithstanding  all  this,  the  good  couple  thanked  their 
loving  parishioner  cordially,  and  on  the  morning  after  the 
donation  party,  they  put  the  new  recruit  away  in  the  book- 
case, at  the  end  of  a  whole  regiment  of  copies  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, without,  we  do  believe,  a  single  thought  that  it  was 
hard  that  the  Buxtons  should  give  them  an  eighty-seven  cent 
Bible,  which  they  had  no  use  for,  and  might  not  sell  or  give 
away,  in  the  place  of  a  cash  payment  of  three  or  four  dollars, 


248  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

which,  in  justice,  was  due  to  the  Elder  from  a  man  in  Mr. 
Buxton's  position. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tripp  gave  a  different  sort  of  present — a 
barrel  of  flour. 

"That  is  something  like,"  thought  the  Elder,  on  Thursday 
afternoon,  as  he  saw  Mr.  Tripp's  barrel-loaded  hand-sled  turn- 
ing up  into  the  yard.  But  the  Elder  never  knew  the  exact 
history  of  that  barrel.  It  was  a  history  not  quite  palatable 
enough,  perhaps,  to  be  disclosed  to  him,  stil^  less  to  Mrs. 
Graynes.  But  the  truth  was,  that  a  few  .swreeks  before  the 
donation  party,  Mr.  Tripp  brought  a  barrel  of  flour  down  to 
his  own  house  for  domestic  use.  He  unheaded  it  and  stood  it 
in  the  store-closet.  Superfine  it  was  branded  outside,  and 
superfine  it  looked  within.  But  not  many  days  passed  before 
Mrs.  Tripp,  in  developing  the  resources  of  the  barrel,  develop- 
ed— !  ! — well,  whether  the  mice  had  carried  the  straw  into 
the  barrel  before  it  was  headed  up,  and  made  their  nest  there, 
or  whether  the  top  of  the  barrel,  while  yet  open,  had  been 
selected  as  a  place  of  sepulture  for  mice,  on  account  of  its 
being  a  soft  spot  and  easy  of  digging,  or  whether  mischievous 
boys  had  contrived  the  whole  matter  as  a  trick  upon  pur- 
chasers, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tripp  were  unable  to  determine. 

The  Tripps  found  it  not  easy  to  decide  what  to  do  with 
their  flour.  Mrs.  T.  could  never  eat  another  spoonful  of  it, 
she  was  sure,  and  Mr.  T.  was  strongly  indisposed  to  lose  it. 
Nor  would  the  grocer  take  it  back. 

But  a  compromise  was  at  last  effected.  The  grocer  was 
induced  to  sell  the  Tripps  another  barrel  at  a  liberal  discount. 
And  the  first  barrel,  every  thing  that  was  not  strictly  super- 
fine having  been  dug  out,  and  the  vacancy  refilled  from  the 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  249 

second,  its  head  having  been  replaced,  and  the  Elder's  address 
marked  upon  its  side  in  blacking,  in  order  to  disguise  some 
little  traces  of  its  use,  the  barrel,  thus  reformed,  was  devoted 
to  the  support  of  the  Gospel,  as  embodied  in  the  person  of 
Elder  Graynes ;  "  who,"  Mrs.  Tripp  argued,  "  would  never 
know  the  difference,  and  therefore  it  did  not  signify." 

Mr.  Blankes  was  the  lawyer  of  Cone  Cut  Corners,  and  a 
prominent  man.  A  man  of  public  spirit,  he  was  also,  as 
prominent  men  in  country  towns,  and  in  cities  also,  for  that 
matter,  are  not,  always. 

The  deficiency  in  the  subscription-list  was  not  ascribable  to 
Mr.  Blankes,  for  he  himself  subscribed  fairly,  and  paid  Ids  sub- 
scription promptly.  When  it  proved  that  the  amount  raised 
was  going  to  fall  short,  he  added  a  sum  which  ought  to  have 
made  some  of  the  contiguous  subscriptions  blush  like  red  ink, 
not  because  it  was  so  large,  for  it  was  not,  but  because  they 
were  so  small.  And  beyond  this,  he  took  the  list  and 
went  through  the  parish  again,  adding  his  personal  exertions 
to  those  of  the  parish  committee.  Very  efficient  exertions 
they  were,  and  the  subscription  was  materially  benefited  by 
them. 

Mr.  Blankes,  therefore,  rightly  considered  that  it  befitted 
him  to  give  the  Elder  a  souvenir  rather  than  a  donation.  So 
he  subscribed,  in  the  Elder's  name,  to  Harper's  Magazine  for 
two  years  ;  and  when  he  entered  the  Elder's  parlor,  on  Thurs- 
day evening,  he  laid  the  first  number,  with  the  receipted  bill 
pinned  inside,  upon  the  table  appropriated  to  the  knickknncks 
contributed  to  the  support  of  the  Gospel,  as  embodied  in  the 
person  of  Elder  Graynes,  and  a  pleasant  visitor  it  became  at 
the  Elder's  cottage. 

11* 


250  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

Mrs.  Colonel  Willick  never  once  thought  about  the  donation 
party  until  the  afternoon  of  the  identical  Thursday  had  arrived. 

She  declared  she  never  was  so  careless  in  all  her  born  days. 

So  putting  on  her  bonnet,  and  telling  Hannah  to  mind  the 
baby,  and  not  let  him  eat  too  much, — in  which  direction  she 
had  reference  to  the  youngest  Willick,  an  infant  traveler  upon 
the  journey  of  life,  now  packing  his  little  trunk  with  dough- 
nuts to  an  extent  which  promised  his  being  carried  through 
by  very  rapid  stages, — she  set  out  for  her  husband's  store,  to 
select  a  donation. 

It  was  by  no  means  a  busy  day  with  Colonel  Willick,  there 
being  nobody  in  the  store  except  the  Colonel  himself,  a  ruddy- 
faced,  awkward  lad  employed  by  him  as  clerk  and  general  as- 
sistant, and  a  rustic-looking  young  man  with  a  fur  cap  on, 
and  a  long  goadstick  in  his  hand.  The  latter  individual  sat 
by  the  stove,  tipping  back  against  the  counter,  and  acting  ap- 
parently as  contemplative  visitor,  rather  than  customer. 

Mrs.  Willick  was  by  no  means  devoid  of  interest  in  her 
husband's  business  prosperity,  but  she  secretly  rejoiced  to  find 
him  thus  at  leisure,  for  her  errand  was  one  which  required 
some  connubial  consultation. 

And  a  long  connubial  consultation  there  was,  conducted  in 
too  low  a  voice  for  the  ruddy-faced  clerk  and  assistant  to 
overhear.  A  great  quantity  of  goods  of  various  sorts  was 
overhauled  in  search  of  a  donation.  At  length  Mrs.  Willick 
put  her  finger  upon  a  piece  of  muslin  de  laine,  which  was 
"  exactly  the  thing,"  she  insisted,  with  much  vivacity,  for  a 
dress  for  Mrs.  Graynes.  It  was  a  piece  of  muslin  de  laine 
which  was  so  well  suited  to  the  Cone  Cut  taste,  that  the  ladies 
of  the  Corners  and  the  surrounding  country  had  selected 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  251 

dresses  from  it,  until  there  were  now  only  eight  yards  and 
three  quarters  left.  It  was  what  Colonel  Willick  had  never 
been  willing  to  call  a  remnant, — nor  had  the  five  or  six  ladies 
to  whom  he  had  offered  it  at  a  discount,  been  quite  satisfied 
that  it  was  a  pattern.  But  it  was  exactly  the  thing  for  a  dress 
for  Mrs.  Graynes,  waiving  the  trifling  defect  that  as  she  was 
rather  tall,  it  was  a  matter  of  actual  impossibility  as  it  proved, 
to  make  a  dress  out  of  it  which  she  could  wear.  However, 
the  Willicks  were  carefully  uncertain  as  to  whether  it  might 
not  prove  to  be  enough.  The  Colonel  thought  it  would,  and 
Mrs.  Willick  hoped  it  might.  At  any  rate,  reasoned  she,  it 
will  pass  for  an  accident,  and  after  all,  the  will  is  as  good  as 
the  deed. 

So  the  muslin  de  laine  was  rolled  up  in  a  brown  paper, 
and  consecrated  to  the  support  of  the  Gospel,  as  embodied 
in  the  person  of  Mrs.  Elder  Graynes.  And  Mrs.  Willick 
trudged  homeward,  congratulating  herself  upon  her  selec- 
tion. 

Mrs.  Graynes  also  congratulated  herself  that  same  Thursday 
evening  upon  the  acquisition  of  a  new  dress ;  and  measured  it 
doubtfully  on  Friday,  consulted  Miss  Provy  Pease  about  it  on 
Saturday,  tried  to  help  thinking  about  it  on  Sunday,  endeav- 
ored, without  success,  to  match  it  at  Donoe's  store  on  Monday, 
(she  did  not  feel  quite  like  going  to  Willick's,)  gave  up  the 
idea  of  a  new  dress  on  Tuesday,  and  bargained  it  away  on 
Wednesday  to  the  young  girl  who  assisted  her  about  her 
house-work,  for  and  in  consideration  of  one  dollar  to  be  de- 
ducted and  reserved  from  the  next  monthly  installment  of  her 
wages,  which  fell  due  on  Thursday. 

Thus  there  was  no  slight  difference  between  the  value  of 


252  COXE     CUT     CORNERS. 

the  donations  as  appraised,  on  behalf  of  the  parish,  and  as 
estimated  on  behalf  of  the  Pastor. 


Parish,  Estimates. 


Pastor's  Etimate. 


Donations  in  cash 950    Cash  Donations 950 

9  Loaves  of  cake  at  --5  cts. 2  25  j  5  Loaves  of  cake  )  Eaten  at  tho 

18  Pies  at  10  cts. 130    4  Pies  j     Donation....    . 

4  Loaves  of  cake  at  £5  c.  ]  Useful  to 

3  Pies  at  10  c,                  J  the  Elder  1  3 .) 

6  Pies,  —  necessarily  given  away . .    


1  Diamond  Bible,  very  "neat," 
"  pretty,"  and  "  appropriate," ...  0  87 

1  Barrel  of  flour,  as  valued  by  El- 
der Graynes 10  00 

Subscription  to  Monthly  Magazine 
for  two  jears 6  00 

1  Dress  for  Mrs.  Graynes 250 


1  Bible. 


1  Barrel  of  flour,  as  valued  by  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Tripp 

Two  years'  subscription  to  Month- 
ly Magazine 600 

1  Dress  for  Debby  Ann. 100 


But  we  have  forgotten  Aunt  Dannells'  stockings. 

The  stockings  which  that  lady  knit  to  present  to  Elder 
Graynes,  are  of  course  those  referred  to. 

Aunt  Dannells  was  almost  eighty  years  of  age.  In  a 
pleasant  dell,  down  on  the  old  valley  road,  about  three  miles 
from  the  village,  there  was  a  small  yellow  house,  with  an  uii- 
painted  woodshed  by  its  side,  no  fence  in  front,  and  a  well- 
sweep  in  the  yard  ;  and  there  was  where  Aunt  Dannells  lived. 
She  had  one  son  and  three  or  four  grandsons  for  next  door 
neighbors,  and  a  pig  and  a  little  flock  of  turkeys  for  boarders. 

Aunt  Dannells  was  a  widow.  Twenty-five  years  ago  her 
husband  came  home  from  the  hayfield  in  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon,  overwearied — said  he  was  almost  afraid  he  was 
going  to  have  a  sick  turn — ate  a  little  supper — thought  he 
should  feel  better  for  a  good  night's  sleep — and  early  went  to 
bed.  There  were  bright  lights  in  the  house  all  night,  but  dark- 
ness pettled  on  it  in  the  morning,  for  when  the  sun  roso,  thf 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  253 

spirit  of  the  husband  and  father  ascended  to  another  world. 
Her  hair  was  thin  and  gray  then,  and  her  step  already  weak ; 
and  she  thought  it  would  be  but  a  short  separation.  But  she 
lived  to  see  a  quarter  of  a  century  pass  away  ;  mature  men 
grew  aged,  and  lads  grew  mature  around  her,  and  still  she 
waited. 

Aunt  Dannells  was  a  mother.  To  rear  her  children  was 
her  calling ;  she  had  never  known  any  wider  sphere  than  this. 
Her  eight  sons  and  her  three  daughters,  were  the  work  of  her 
life,  and  she  felt  her  strength  renewed  in  them.  Her  sons 
filled  high  positions,  and  her  daughters  presided  over  popu- 
lous households  in  their  turn.  Her  grandchildren  were  enter- 
ing upon  active  life  in  employments  and  homes  of  their  own ; 
or  were  standing  expectant  upon  the  verge  of  the  paternal 
threshold.  And  she  had  even  great-grandchildren  who  were 
old  enough  to  know  her. 

Aunt  Dannells  had  not  accomplished  much,  as  some  judge 
woman's  work.  She  had  written  no  books — argued  no  causes 
— edited  no  paper — taught  no  school.  She  had  reared  chil- 
dren only,  and  the  world  was  none  the  better  for  her,  except  so 
far  as  it  was  the  better  for  them.  Among  her  sons  indeed, 
ono  was  a  distinguished  author, — one  the  leading  lawyer  of  his 
State, — one  the  editor  of  an  influential  city  journal, — two  were 
college  professors.  Their  works  were  famous.  Hers  was  hum- 
ble. Whether  to  write — to  plead — to  edit — to  teach — be 
nobler  works  than  hers,  depends  upon  the  question  whether 
books — lawsuits — newspapers— school-lessons— be  better  things 
than  human  life.  If  no — let  not  the  mother's  sphere  be  quite 
forgotten  yet.  If  yes — then  country-women  be  yours  higher 
aims  and  ends  in  life  than  hers. 


254  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

In  country  towns,  those  who  toward  the  close  of  kind  and 
useful  lives  come  to  find  their  relatives  scattered  and  them- 
selves alone  in  life,  are  not  uncommonly  adopted  into  a  uni- 
versal relationship  to  all  their  neighbors.  Thus  it  was,  that 
Mrs.  Lydia  Dannells  became  Aunt  Dannells  to  all  Cone  Cut 
Comers. 

Aunt  Dannells  and  her  grandson  rode  slowly  up  through 
the  village,  and  up  the  hill  that  led  to  Elder  Graynes.'  Grand- 
son jumped  out  to  lighten  the  load  for  the  horse.  The  horse 
is  probably  to  this  day  ignorant  of  his  kindness.  For  any 
lightening  he  accomplished,  grandson  might  as  well  have 
stopped  in  the  sleigh. 

Grandson  turned  the  horse  artistically  up  to  the  Elder's  door. 
Aunt  Dannells  sat  still  in  the  sleigh. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Mrs.  Graynes,  pushing  the  little  chintz 
curtain  of  the  sitting-room  window  on  one  side,  and  peering  out 
to  see  who  the  new  visitor  might  be ;  "  there  's  Aunt  Dannells. 
Eben  do  go  out  and  speak  to  her,  the  good  soul  can't  get  out 
of  the  sleigh." 

Elder  Graynes  laid  down  his  book,  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
walked  out  to  the  sleigh,  his  study  gown  shivering  behind 
him  in  the  cold  wind. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Aunt  Dannells  ?"  said  he.  "  I  'm  glad 
to  see  you.  Won't  you  come  in  ?" 

"  Do  come  in,"  said  Mrs.  Graynes  from  the  door-step,  hos- 
pitably reenforcing  her  husband  in  his  invitation.  "  Come  in 
and  rest  you  a  little,  and  get  your  foot-board  warm." 

The  nephews  and  nieces  of  Aunt  Dannells,  whom  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  visit  for  some  years  past,  knew  very  well 
that  it  was  her  habit  to  provide  against  cold  feet  in  her  long 


CONE     CUT     CORNEES.  255 

winter  rides,  by  the  primitive  process  of  keeping  them  upon 
a  hot  piece  of  plank,  of  convenient  size  to  lay  down  in  the 
bottom  of  the  sleigh.  Her  foot-board  had  often  toasted  its 
browned  sides  before  Mrs.  Graynes'  fire,  leaning  up  against 
the  brass  andirons. 

"  Not  to-day,"  said  Aunt  Dannells  ;  "  I  'm  obleeged  to  you. 
It 's  'most  sundown,  and  I  must  be  getting  towards  home. 
But  my  boys  told  me,"  she  continued,  addressing  the  Elder, 
"  that  you  was  a  going  to  have  a  donation  to-night." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Elder,  "  my  people  have  been  very 
thoughtful  and  kind ;  I  hope  they  will  be  repaid  for  all 
they  have  done  for  me." 

"  Well,  I  'm  sure  they  have  been,"  said  Aunt  Dannells ; 
"  you  Ve  been  a  hard-working  man,  and  a  faithful  one  ever 
since  you  come  to  labor  among  us ;  if  ever  there  was  one. 
You've  done  more  for  us  than  ever  we  can  do  for  you.  But 
the  Lord  keeps  the  accounts,"  she  added,  solemnly. 

"  I  suppose  your  sons  heard  the  notice  given  out  in  meet- 
ing ?"  said  the  Elder. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  lady ;  "  I  was  n't  out  myself ;  I  have  n't 
been  so  I  could  really  get  out  to  meetin'  since  cold  weather 
set  in." 

"  I  know,"  said  the  Elder  ;  "  we  Ve  missed  you  this  win- 
ter." 

"  It  ain't  because  I  don't  love  to  come,  you  know,"  said 
Aunt  Dannells.  "  But  my  meetin'  days  in  this  world  are 
pretty  nigh  over.  But  I  did  n't  want  you  to  think  I  was  too 
old  to  remember  my  minister,  so  I  thought  I  must  knit  you  a 
pair  of  stockin's." 

And  she  took  out  from  under   the  buffalo  robe   a  small 


256  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

package,  wrapped  up  in  a  fragment  of  newspaper,  and  handed 
it  to  the  Elder. 

"  Thank  you,  Aunt  Dannells,  thank  you,"  said  he,  taking 
the  package.  "JSobody  understands  stockings  better  than 
you,  I  am  sure." 

"  I  'in  too  old  to  come  with  the  rest  to-night,"  said  Aunt 
Dannells,  "  or  I  'd  have  come  and  brought  'em  then.  My  boy 
Nathauiel  is  a  going  to  come  up  with  his  wife,  and  he  wanted 
me  to  let  him  bring  'em  ;  but  I  thought  I  'd  rather  come  and 
bring  'em  myself.  Good-by." 

"  Good-by." 

The  pastor  shook  hands  with  his  aged  parishioner,  and 
stepped  back  to  the  little  white  gate. 

Grandson  turned  the  horse  artistically  round,  and  started 
him  off  down  hill. 

He  was  a  horse  with  whom  capers  and  pranks  were  sheer 
impossibilities.  Running  away  was  a  forgotten  pastime  of 
his  youth.  Shying  was  an  error  not  to  be  committed  by  an 
animal  of  aged  eyes  like  his.  Has  was  the  sedate,  calm 
temper  of  age.  So  grandson  permitted  him  to  ramble  along 
toward  home,  the  reins  hanging  loosely  over  the  dasher,  while 
the  young  driver  cut  crosses  in  the  snow  with  his  whip-lash, 
till  the  road  looked  like  the  route  of  a  Catholic  procession. 

There  was  not  much  conversation  between  youth  and  age. 
Grandson  was  busy  planning  a  skating  excursion  and  a  fire 
on  the  ice.  Grandmother's  thoughts  ran  placidly,  happily 
back,  over  scenes  in  her  life  long  past^  even  as  the  Great 
Traveler  in  the  western  sky,  now  on  the  very  verge  of  the 
horizon,  turned  from  the  course  which  lay  before  him,  and 
from  his  chariot  of  gold  and  fire,  threw  a  smiling,  loving 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  257 

glance  over  the  track  of  his  completed  journey  across  the 
earth. 

That  evening  there  was  a  pleasant  company  at  the  Elder's. 

There  was  also  pleasant  company  in  Gregory  Donoe's  store. 
The  gentlemen  then  and  there  assembled  had  been  enjoying 
themselves  in  their  own  peculiar  ways,  involving  much  anec- 
dote, some  profanity,  and  immense  laughter.  Captain  May- 
feme  was  giving  his  feet  their  last  toasting  for  the  night,  at 
the  stove.  A  hot  beverage  in  a  stone  pitcher  was  circulating 
briskly  in  the  crowd  at  the  expense  of  the  Captain,  who  had 
lost  a  wager  on  the  number  of  glasses  which  his  friend  Jerry 
could  drink  at  a  sitting.  Jerry  having  exceeded  all  anticipa- 
tions, and  disposed  of  seven  consecutive  drams,  the  Captain 
had  made  good  his  word.  He  was  now  pulling  on  his  boots, 
which  had  lain  near  the  ^stove  most  of  the  evening,  while 
Gregory,  was  putting  up  two  packages  for  him. 

"  Sev'nglass-ses,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  knowaman  candrink 
mor'n  sev'n-glasses.  Mor'n  sev'n." 

The  Captain  spoke  in  a  dialect  adopted  by  the  judicious 
friends  of  Temperance  in  their  most  happy  moments.  It  is  a 
dialect  easier  learned  than  understood.  It  may  be  acquired  in 
one  easy  lesson  of  five  or  six  glasses  ;  but  it  can  only  be  re- 
corded by  the  use  of  the  phonetic  system  of  spelling, — a  style 
which  the  reader,  if  he  will  take  the  trouble  of  trying  the  ex- 
periment, will  find  sounds  more  intelligible  than  it  looks. 

"  Who 's  that,  Captain  ?"  asked  the  storekeeper. 

Gregory  Donoe  was  a  temperate  man;  he  was  a  strictly 
temperate  man,  by  Deacon  Ficksom's  definition,  "  A  man  that 
drinks  with  moderation."  His  physical  nature  was  so  much 


258  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

a  machine,  and  so  little  human,  that  he  justly  prided  himself 
on  being  naturally  fitted  for  "  the  business ;"  for  he  could  al- 
ways take  a  friendly  glass  with  a  customer,  and  it  never 
seemed  to  get  up  as  far  as  his  head. 

"Ill  tell  youoot-tis,"  returned  the  Captain,  getting  up 
and  steadying  himself  along  the  counter  toward  Oregon-, 
"gimee  those  b-bottles." 

"  There,"  said  Mr.  Donoe,  putting  them  in  Mr.  Mayferrie's 
hands. 

"  How  much  ist-terbe  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  '11  charge  it." 

"  No  !  you  'ont  charjiteither,  olefeller,  yourer  lilltoo  fass-sir, 
too  fass-sir.  Howm-ucharthey.  You've  more  lezherpaper 
t'  my  name  now,  olefeller,  anyou  '11-ever-use-fer-kindlin'." 

"One-fifty,"  said  Gregory. 

"  I  've  got  summuney  to-day,  an'  I  '11  pay.  Pay's  you  go, 
b-boys.  Allerspay  syou  go.  Thasspoorichard.  Bu'  I  know  a 
man  's  can  drink  mor'n  sev'n  glas-s-ses.  'N'eell  be  sober,  too. 
S-ober's  I  am-mnow." 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  inquired  the  storekeeper,  as  he  made  change, 
showing  some  interest  in  so  valuable  a  customer  as  such  a 
man  would  be. 

"  Oh  ?  he  's-eesaman,"  returned  the  Captain,  reaching  the 
door,  and  holding  it  open  as  he  spoke,  "  oh-h-eesa-uh-you 
knowim.  Ee'sa  man  ;  'sa-man.  Don't  you  knowoo-o'tis  ?  I  '11 
tell  youootis.  Ee'sa  col'blooded,  ir'nbone,  grizzlemuscled,  fish- 
'arted  m-man.  Oweesaman.  Za  man  erbiznez." 

So  saying,  the  Captain  stumbled  off  the  threshold,  and 
slammed  the  door  after  him. 

From  the  hot  and  somewhat  fragrant   atmosphere  of  the 


C'ONE     CUT     CORNERS.  259 

store  into  the  fresh  and  stinging  air  of  outer  night,  was  a 
wholesome  change  for  the  Captain;  and  he  breathed  more 
freely,  and  walked  with  less  uncertainty  than  he  did  within. 

The  winter  night  had  settled  down  cold  and  clear  upon 
the  village.  The  sun,  which  three  hours  since  had  set  be- 
neath the  horizon,  had  already  hatched  out  a  magnificent 
brood  of  little  stars.  The  Captain  took  a  look  at  their  nest, 
rubbed  his  eyes  with  his  mittens,  and  toiled  on  up  the  hill. 
It  was  slow  work,  walking  up  that  hill.  The  snow  was  very 
deep  and  soft,  and  the  Captain's  heavy  feet  sunk  far  at  every 
step.  True,  there  was  a  path,  but  it  was  erratic.  It  was  well 
shoveled  in  other  respects,  but  it  had  unexpected  stumbling- 
places  in  it,  and  it  was  crooked,  and  went  on  the  wrong  side 
of  trees,  and  the  Captain  preferred  to  walk  straight. 

In  course  of  time,  however,  Mr.  Mayferrie  came  opposite 
Elder  Graynes'  front  gate.  It  was  very  cold  outside,  and  the 
bright  lights  in  all  the  windows  attracted  him.  So  he  stop- 
ped to  rest,  and  look  a  few  moments,  and  try  to  collect  his 
thoughts.  He  was  not  quite  certain  what  he  had  been  think- 
ing about  before,  and  he  tried  to  remember.  As  he  stood, 
leaning  on  the  gate,  the  pressure  of  one  of  the  bottles  in  his 
over-coat  pocket,  suggested  a  new  topic. 

"  I  '11  gowinside-sir,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  an  'pay  myr-res- 
pecs'  to  th'  ol'  gen'leman.  I — I  hav  n't  been  t'  meeting  f-f-'-r 
some  time,  an  'eel  be  gladerseeme." 

"With  this  anticipation,  he  addressed  himself  to  his  purpose, 
first  by  kicking  very  loud  against  the  right  gate-post  to  get  the 
snow  off  of  one  boot,  and  then  against  the  left  gate-post  to  get  it 
off  the  other.  This  process  he  repeated  against  the  door- 
posts, and  then  knocked.  Instantly  the  door  was  opened  by 


260  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

a  young  lady,  one  of  that  portion  of  the  company  who  had 
taken  up  their  positions  in  the  little  entry  between  the  two 
parlors. 

The  Captain  straightened  himself  up  in  view  of  "the 
brightly-lighted  rooms  and  array  of  people,  smiled,  said, "  Goo'- 
evening,"  took  off  his  hat,  and  stepped  in. 

The  entry  was  a  little  square  room  that  opened  on  the  left, 
into  the  sitting-room,  and  on  the  right,  into  the  parlor. 
What  part  of  it  was  not  occupied  by  these  doors  now  stand- 
ing open,  was  filled  by  a  table  against  the  back-wall,  and  all 
interstices  and  crevices  remaining  were  crowded  with  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  the  youngest  class,  who  had  overflowed  from 
the  crowd  in  the  two  rooms. 

The  Captain  took  off  his  hat  and  placed  it  upon  the  table, 
crown  down.  Then  he  took  out  a  bottle  from  his  pocket  and 
placed  it  carefully  in  the  hat;  then  he  produced  the  other 
bottle,  and  tried  in  vain  to  get  that  into  the  same  receptacle. 
This,  amid  profound  silence  of  the  young  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, who  looked  on  in  some  wonder  at  his  curious  proceeding. 
Finding  that  two  large  bottles  would  not  go  into  one  small 
hat,  he  put  one  of  them  back  into  his  left-hand  coat-pocket, 
where  the  neck  of  it  stood  out  to  hand,  like  the  hilt  of  a 
sword.  He  then  turned  around,  smiled  upon  the  young 
people,  peered  around  the  door-posts,  first  into  the  parlor, 
then  into  the  sitting-room,  then  drew  back,  and  smiled  again. 

"  So  theresum  company  eer  ?"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  yes !  Mr.  Mayferrie,"  said  one  of  the  young  ladies, 
"  it 's  the  donation  party.  Didn't  you  know  it." 

"  Ah !  i'sthe  d-donazhun-party  ?  Why  there  's  DeaconFick- 
som  in — in  there,"  said  he,  pointing  into  the  parlor.  "  Ee'san 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  261 

iceman.  I  did'n'no'erwaza  donazhun-party.  'Stbat  Elderg 
Graynes  ?" 

The  young  people  made  no  answer.  Some  of  them  were 
laughing  in  the  corners ;  some  of  them  had  retreated  out  of 
the  entiy. 

"I  wanter  see'm.  I  wanter  see-e-El'ler.  I  like  him. 
He 'sa  rich  feller.  No!  he's-n'-t  a  rich-f-feller.  He 'samin- 
'ster.  But  'eesa  goo  'feller — he  'sa  firs'  rate  feller.  I  wanter 
see  'm." 

So  saying,  the  Captain  entered  the  parlor. 

As  lie  entered,  the  buzz  of  conversation  around  the  room 
was  hushed.  All  those  on  the  right  wondered  what  it  was 
that  brought  the  Captain  here.  All  those  on  the  left  saw  the 
contents  of  the  pocket,  and  guessed  what  it  was. 

The  Deacon  was  in  the  corner  by  the  window.  He  had 
come  to  contribute  his  countenance — he  brought  nothing 
more — to  the  support  of  the  Gospel,  as  embodied  in  the  per- 
son of  Elder  Graynes.  As  the  Captain  entered,  the  Deacon 
looked  up  to  him  with  a  countenance  that  spoke  volume  after 
volume  of  temperance  tracts,  of  the  old  style. 

Mr.  Donoe  was  by  the  side  of  the  Deacon.  He  came  up 
with  the  sleigh  for  Mrs.  Donoe,  overtaking  and  passing  the 
Captain  upon  the  hill.  He  had  just  come  in,  and  though  a 
somewhat  unexpected  visitor,  yet  had  seated  himself  very 
deliberately,  contiguous  to  the  refreshment-table.  For  Mr. 
Donoe  was  one  of  those  men  who  are  of  such  length  of  moral 
limb,  that  they  attempt  to  walk  with  one  foot  in  the  broad 
road,  and  one  in  the  narrow  path.  During  the  day  he  had  taken 
a  long  stride  in  the  popular  thoroughfare  ;  to-night  he  had 
come  in  to  take  a  little  step  in  the  less-frequented  v.ay. 


262  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Mr.  Donoe  and  the  Deacon  were  discussing,  in  a  high  moral 
tone,  the  aggravated  case  of  Jerry  Bender,  the  red-nosed  man, 
who  in  consequence,  as  Mr.  Donoe  said,  of  sheer  shiftlessness, 
was  about  to  come  upon  the  town  as  a  pauper.  The  Deacon 
was  expressing  his  views  of  the  shamelessness  of  a  man  who 
would  allow  himself  to  be,  not  only  an  evil  example,  but 
a  pecuniary  burden  to  his  fellow-citizens,  when  the  Captain 
entered  the  room. 

At  his  appearance  the  gentlemen  in  the  corner  dropped 
their  discussion.  Elder  Graynes  turned  around  from  the  mid- 
dle of  a  monologue  of  gratitude  addressed  to  Mr.  Tripp,  which 
that  gentleman  in  the  weakness  of  his  nature  was  quite 
uncomfortably  affected  by,  and  visibly  confused  to  receive. 
There  was  a  rush  from  the  other  room,  and  heads  rose  on 
heads,  in  the  door-way.  The  ladies  looked  at  each  other  with 
eyes  elongated  down  into  exclamation  points,  and  short  gen- 
tlemen in  the  background  looked  between  the  heads  of  tall 
gentlemen  before  them,  to  see  what  was  going  on.  Salanda, 
in  a  far  corner  of  the  room,  surrounded  by  several  members 
of  her  Sabbath-school  class  who  would  not  think  of  sitting 
apart  from  her,  looked  for  some  way  of  escape,  but  finding 
none,  hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  instinctively 
crouched  behind  the  others.  The  store-keeper  folded  his 
hands  before  him,  and  raised  his  eyes  ;  whether  in  silent  devo- 
tion or  in  contemplation  of  the  wall-paper,  did  not  appear 
from  their  expression.  The  ex-deacon  turned  upon  the  assem- 
bly a  look  that  embodied  a  whole  volume  of  warnings,  stereo- 
typed the  work,  and  kept  it  before  the  people. 

All  this  in  a  moment. 

The  Elder  saw  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  and  the  nature 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  263 

of  it,  at  once.  He  went  up  to  the  Captain  and  received  his 
offered  hand. 

"  I  'm  very  glad  to  see  you,"  said  he,  mildly.  "  Walk  into 
the  other  room  and  take  off  your  coat ;"  and  he  moved  gently 
to  turn  the  Captain  toward  the  sitting-room. 

"  Nozir  ;  nozir  ;  thank  you  zir,"  said  the  Captain,  smiling 
very  much  upon  the  Elder,  and  opening  his  eyes  very  wide 
upon  those  who  were  staring  at  him.  "  I  'm  'bliged — nozir. 
Ve'y  much  'bliged.  Doan  trouble  your-s-self.  I  haven'  come 
feet — I  haven'  come  t'eet  any  thing.  Why  !  There  's  Donoe. 
How-d'-ye-e  doDonoe  ?" 

Mr.  Donoe,  making  no  reply,  the  Captain  looked  very  hard 
at  him. 

"  Zthat  Donoe  or  'z  that  z'  Deacon  ?  No,  'ts — I  see — 'ts  two 
Deacons.  I  see  'm.  I  see  'm  plain.  'T  's  two  D-deacons. 
He  's  been  drinking  andees  besidimself." 

"  I  'x-pect  tyou  did  n't  'xpect  tsee  m-me  t'  night  ?  But 
'sadonazhun.  I  Ve  brought  a  donazhun.  'Ts  a  little  one — 
little-^but-z-z  good." 

With  these  words,  or  more  properly  syllables,  the  Captain 
fumbled  in  his  pockets  for  his  bottle,  beginning  with  his  waist- 
coat pockets,  and  searching  his  person  thoroughly.  At  last  he 
found  it  where  he  had  put  it,  and  producing  it  with  chuckling 
and  triumph,  he  held  it  out  to  the  Elder. 

"  There,"  said  he.     'Ts  a  little  donazhun.     Butz  firs'rate." 

"Miss'r  F-ficks'm." 

No  answer.  ' 

"  Miss'r  Fick-s-som." 

No  answer. 

"  He  's  deaf.     But  eenozeits-s  good.     It 's  jus-same  as  ee 


264  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

uses.  It 's  Co-oannyack.  Tha's  real  Co-oannyack,"  repeated 
he,  smiling,  and  holding  the  bottle  up  to  the  light  before  the 
Elder.  "  Iz  jusswat  I  buy, — 'nd  'tz  jusswat  er  Deacon  buys. 
Z'  Deacon  'n  I  alwz  buy  t'gether.  'Ey  Donoe  ?" 

The  Elder,  assisted  this  time  by  one  or  two  gentlemen,  re- 
newed his  effort  to  lead  the  Captain  away.  They  succeeded 
in  getting  him  near  the  door,  when  he  broke  away  from  them 
and  returned  to  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  Take  a  little — little,  eve'y  day.  Z'  Bible  says  so.  Z'  Dea- 
con says  so.  Z'  good.  There,"  continued  he,  placing  the  bot- 
tle on  the  table  by  the  side  of  Mrs.  Buxton's  Bible.  "  But 
doan'  let  'm  drink  't  all  up.  Miss'r  Donoe  k'n  drink  mor'n 
sev'n  glasses.  Eesa  man — eesa  maner  bizness.  Z'  Deacon  'sa 
man.  Eesa  good  man." 

"  D'ye  think  as  you  k'n  drink  sev'n  glasses.  Z'  Deacon  can, 
n'  Donoe  can.  Sev'n  'n  'sev'n'  z  fourteen — fourteen  glasses. 
So — better  not-t-open  it  till  they're  gone." 

"  Goo'  night  ladies  'n'  gen'lem'n.     Goo'  night." 

"With  this  the  Captain  gently  freed  himself  from  the  assist- 
ance of  those  around  him,  walked  straight  at  the  clock,  turned 
short  around  just  before  he  reached  it,  and  went  off  at  an  an- 
gle toward  the  door,  where  he  was  lost  in  the  crowd.  And 
then  considering  that  he  had  acquitted  himself  of  his  share  in 
the  donation,  he  bowed  himself  out,  took  his  hat  and  the  re- 
maining bottle,  and  went  away. 

From  thence  to  Captain  Mayferrie's  home  was  a  long  mile. 
He  traveled  slowly,  stopped  often  on  the  way,  and  the  remain- 
ing bottle  was  somewhat  lightened  of  its  contents  when  he 
reached  the  house. 


XXII. 


JULY,    1852. 


"Well,  Sa- 
landa,"  said  the 
Captain,  inter- 
rupting him- 
self in  a 

pull    at    a  cigar,   which,   by    special  leave  of  Aunt  Provy, 
he  was  smoking,  as  he  was  seated,  one  moonlight   evening, 
on  the  little  piazza  at  the  back  of  her  little  house. 
12 


266  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Well,"  said  Salanda,  in  a  delightful  liiile  feminine  echo. 

The  Captain  took  another  vigorous  pull  at  the  cigar,  and 
Avanted  to  know  what  Salanda  was  thinking  about. 

Then  there  was  a  short  pausj,  in  which  the  moon,  peeping 
through  the  woodbine  and  honeysuckle  of  the  piazza,  winked 
through  the  leaves,  as  if  she  thought  the  Captain  was  Jason. 
It  was  not  such  a  ridiculous  mistake,  either ;  considering  how 
frequently  this  came  little  piazza  of  Aunty  Pease's  enjoyed 
that  young  gentleman's  company,  on  pleasant  nights. 

"  I  was  thinking,  sir,"  said  Salanda,  speaking  slowly  and 
gently,  though  without  hesitation,  "  I  was  thinking  if  I  could 
not  get  a  school  some  where  this  fall,  to  teach."  x 

The  Captain  puffed  a  wreath  of  smoke  at  two  musquitos, 
who  were  serenading  him  in  duet,  and  watched  their  voices 
out  of  hearing  in  the  distance. 

"  Why,  Salanda  !  What  do  you  want  to  teach  for  ?"  he 
asked. 

"  I  should  like  to,  because  I  have  been  studying  a  good 
while  now,  and  I  think  I  ought  to  be  doing  something  for 
myself." 

"  For  yourself?"  said  the  Captain. 

"  To  maintain  myself,  I  mean.  I  thank  Aunt  Provy  daily 
for  her  care  ;  she  has  done  every  thing  for  me  ; — but — " 

"Well,"  said  the  Captain  again,  after  a  long  conference 
with  his  cigar,  from  which,  during  the  whole  conversation,  he 
seemed  to  receive  many  useful  suggestions,  and  constant 
support  and  sympathy,  '•  I  think  you  might  do  very  well  to 
teach  ;  very  well  indeed  ;  I'm  sure  your  scholars  would." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could  get  a  school  '?"  inquired  Salanda. 

"  Yes ;  oh,  yes ;  but  I  don't  think  it 's  quite  time  for  that 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  267 

yet.  I  suppose  you  Ve  about  got  to  the  end  of  Mr.  Blossom's 
learning." 

"  Why,  I  am  studying  pretty  much  by  myself  now." 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  said  the  Captain,  "  you  study  the  les- 
son, and  then  you  go  and  explain  it  to  him,  and  he  calls  it 
reciting,  I  suppose." 

Salanda  laughed,  and  shook  back  the  curls  which  had 
fallen  in  the  way  of  her  work. 

She  was  at  that  moment  arranging  oak  leaves  and  sprigs 
of  evergreen,  upon  a  strip  of  sheeting  of  appropriate  length,  to 
form  the  word  "  INDEPENDENCE,"  which  was  to  adorn  the 
pulpit  of  the  Cone  Cut  Academy  on  the  occasion  of  Esquire 
Clegge's  Fourth  of  July  oration,  which  was  to  be  delivered  on 
Monday,  the  day  after  to-morrow. 

The  Captain  had  heard  that  a  motto  was  desired,  and  had 
come  down  with  a  wagon-load  of  the  required  foliage,  gather- 
ed by  his  own  hands  from  the  woods  about  his  house.  His 
zeal  in  this  regard  must  not  be  attributed  entirely  to  patriotic 
sentiments,  or  to  enthusiasm  for  the  public  entertainment. 
He  had  heard  that  Salanda  was  intrusted  with  the  duty  of 
preparing  the  device,  and  it  was  more  out  of  simple  pleasure 
in  assisting  her,  than  from  any  other  motive,  that  his  share  in 
the  labor  had  been  performed. 

Salanda  twisted  around  into  its  place  the  sprig  of  cedar, 
which  she  was  patiently  training  into  the  shape  and  meaning 
of  the  letter  D,  and  laughed  again  as  she  thought  of  the  Cap- 
tain's notion  of  the  course  of  instruction  in  the  higher 
branches,  enjoyed  by  the  pupils  of  the  Cone  Cut  Academy. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  think  you  might  do  very  well 
to  teach,  very  well  indeed.  But  would  n't  it  be  a  good  idea 


268  C  O  N  E     C  U  T     C  O  R  N  E  R  S  . 

for  you  to  go  away  to  school — some  real  school — for  a  year 
first  ?  Say  some  school  in  New  York  ?" 

"Oh,  I  wish  I  could,"  said  Salanda,  enthusiastically. 
"Wouldn't  it  be  grand?" 

The  Captain  took  his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  and  puffed  a 
cloud  of  smoke  into  the  air.  He  watched  it  as  it  slowly  dis- 
appeared. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  guess  we  can  fix  that." 

"  How  do  you  mean  1"  asked  Salanda. 

The  Captain  puffed  away,  without  answering,  until  he  had 
enveloped  himself  in  a  little  atmosphere  of  smoke.  He 
seemed  to  feel  renewed  assurance  and  hopefulness  in  it. 

"  I  guess  we  can  find  a  school,"  he  said. 

"  Ah,  that  is  n't  so  difficult  as  it  is  to  find  the  schooling," 
said  Salanda. 

The  Captain  puffed  away  in  silence  again,  while  Salanda 
waited  to  hear  his  views  in  respect  to  that  difficulty. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  at  length,  "  I  guess  we  can  find  that  too. 
You  see  what  Aunt  Provy  thinks  about  the  plan.  Perhaps 
she  can  lend  you  some  money.  If  she  approves,  I  think  you 
had  better  go  this  fall." 

"What!"  said  Salanda,  "really  and  truly?  Go  to  New 
York  to  school  ?  How  can  I  ever  thank — " 

"  There,  be  quiet,"  said  Captain  Mayferrie,  interrupting  her. 
"  You  're  a  true  woman,  you  are.  I  should  know  that,  the 
minute  you  speak.  You  jump  at  a  conclusion  over  a  gap 
that  it  would  take  a  common  man's  mind  a  month  to  bridge 
with  reasons,  and  then  he  'd  be  afraid  of  it.  There 's  Aunt 
Provy  come  to  call  you  in.  What  a  dear  good  old  prudent 
soul  she  is." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  260 

"  Salanda,"  cried  Aunt  Provy,  opening  the  window,  "  you  '11 
catcli  your  death  a  cold  out  there  in  this  night  air,  and  with 
nothing  on  your  head  too." 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Pease,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  Ah,  is  that  you  ?"  responded  Aunt  Provy.  "  I  wonder  at 
you,  Captain  Mayferric,  letting  her  stay  out  here  so  late. 
You  're  as  bad  as  Jason." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  Captain.  "  What 's  the  harm.  There 
is  n't  air  enough  to  hurt  a  musquito." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  responded  Aunt  Provy.  "  But  there  is 
enough  to  hurt  her." 

"  Well,  Avell,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  must  be  going,  any  way. 
I  Ve  got  some  business  at  the  village  before  I  go  home." 

So  saying,  he  tossed  his  cigar  over  the  railing,  and  stretched 
himself  erect. 

"  Not  at  Gregory  Donoe's,"  said  Salanda,  softly,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  shoulder  and  looking  him  in  the  face. 

"Why,  yes,  my  dear,  I  am  afraid  at  Gregory  Donoe's. 
What  's  the  matter  with  him.  He  's  a  good  man,  is  n't  he  ?" 

"  I  'm  afraid  he  is  n't  a  very  good  friend  to  you,"  said  Sa- 
landa, with  hesitation. 

"  Come,  come,  Salanda,"  said  Aunt  Provy.  "  What  con- 
spiracy arc  you  plotting  out  there  against  me." 

And  Aunt  Provy  laughed  at  the  idea  of  any  body's  con- 
spiring against  her,  as  the  most  delightfully  absurd  joke  in  the 
world — which  it  was.  , 

"  There,  run  along,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  And  you  ?"  said  Salanda,  inquiringly. 

"  I — I  am — no  I  ain't ;  I  'in  going  straight  home,"  replied 
the  Captain,  surrendering. 


270  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Thank  you." 

Salanda  said  this  better  with  her  eyes  than  with  her  lips. 

The  Captain  bade  her  good  night,  and  jumped  over  the 
railing  into  the  yard,  by  way  of  making  a  resolute  start,  to  go 
home  ;  while  Salanda  went  into  the  house. 

It  was  not  until  the  evening  of  the  next  day  that  Salanda 
communicated  the  substance  of  her  conversation  with  the 
Captain  to  Miss  Provy  Pease. 

"  Aunt,"  said  she  then,  to  her,  "  what  a  strange  man  Mr. 
Mayferrie  is.  Don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  Why,  I  don't  know  as  he  is,"  replied  Aunt  Provy.  "  They 
are  all  queer  more  or  less.  Now  there  's  Deacon  Ficks — ." 

"  But  I  mean  it 's  strange  he  should  be  here  so  much  and 
talk  so  much  about  me,  and  have  so  much  to  say  to  me. 
You  know  that  beautiful  new  shawl  he  gave  me  last  winter, 
and  now  he  wants  to  pay  for  me  at  school  somewhere,  this 
winter,  I  believe.  I  can't  see  what  he  should  want  to  do  it 
for.  That  is  what  puzzles  me." 

"  Why  I  don't  know  as  there  is  any  thing  mysterious  in 
him,"  responded  Aunt  Provy.  "  He  is  n't  the  only  one  who 
comes  here  much,  and  as  to  the  shawl,  I  am  sure  it  isn't 
any  handsomer  than  the  gold  pin  somebody  gave  you  to  fasten 
it  with,  and — " 

"Oh,  that's  different,"  said  Salanda.  " Besides,  I  was  n't 
talking  about  Jason.  I  don't  want  to  know  about  him.  I 
want  to  know  about  Mr.  Mayferrie." 

"  What  about  him  ?  I  don't  see  as  he  's  a  bit  more  myste- 
rious than  Jason.  Why  now  he  's  carried  you  out  to  ride 
four  times  this  week." 

"Oh,  no,  only  three,  Aunt." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  27l 

"  Why,' yes,  my  dear.  There  was  last  night — then  the  ride 
Wednesday — then  you  went  with  him  up  to  the  hill  Monday 
— and  he  brought  you  home  from  church  Sunday." 

"But  that  don't  count — just  coming  home  from  church. 
Besides,  the  Captain  was  there,  or  at  least  it  was  his  horse  and 
wagon.  And  I  'm  sure  Jason  asked  you  to  go." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Aunt  Provy,  "  that 's  all  very  well.  And 
he  was  veiy  glad  when  I  did  n't." 

"Well,  no  matter  about  Jason,"  said  Salanda,  having 
apparently  no  great  objection,  after  all,  to  being  worsted  in 
the  discussion  of  this  question ;  "  I  want  to  know  about  Mr. 
Mayferrie.  I  do  really  wish  aunt  you  would  tell  me  about 
Mr.  Mayferrie." 

"  Tell  you  what,  child  ?     How  should  I  know  ?" 

Salanda  made  no  answer.  She  left  the  question,  and 
commenced  anew. 

"  What  makes  you  think  my  mother  was  a  Chesslebury  ?" 

"  She  told  me  so,"  said  Aunt  Provy. 

"  I  wonder  where  she  came  from,"  said  Salanda,  thinking 
aloud,  rather  than  talking  to  her  aunt.  "  Poor  mother.  How 
you  ever  came  that  cold  night  to  wander  straight  to  such  a 
home  as  this  !  Did  you  ever  know  where  she  came  from  V 

"  She  was  n't  in  her  right  mind,  my  dear,  and  could  n't  tell." 

"  And  you  never  asked  ?"  said  Salanda,  reproachfully. 

"Who  was  there  to  ask?"  said  Aunt  Provy. 

"  And  you  never  knew  where  she  was  going,  or  what  she 
was  going  after  ?" 

"How  should  I?  She  never  could  tell.  She  talked 
crazily  of  her  John  and  her  treasure.  That  was  all." 

"  Are  you  certain  it  was  Chesslebury.      I  mean  to  tell 


272  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Jason  about  it  some  time.  I  never  did.  Maybe  *he  would 
know." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  would  n't  say  any  thing  to  Jason  about  her," 
said  Aunt  Provy.  "  That  would  n't  be  a  good  plan,  I  don't 
think.  Besides,  he  would  n't  know  any  thing  about  it.  He 
was  nothing  but  a  little  baby.  Most  likely  it  '&  another  Ches- 
slebury,  too.  Oh,  no,  I  would  n't  ask  him." 

This  conversation  was  in  a  low  tone ;  Salanda's  share 
indeed  almost  in  whispers.  And  there  were  long  pauses  of 
solemn  stillness  as  the  two  sat  knitting  in  the  darkening 
twilight. 

"  Captain  Mayferrie  came  the  summer  before,  didn't  he  P 
asked  Salanda. 

"  Yes !" 

"  Mayferrie.  Mayferrie.  I  wonder  if  that  is  his  real  name. 
What  was  he  captain  of  ?" 

"The  story  was,  he  was  captain  of  a  privateersman,'' 
replied  Aunt  Provy,  who  believed  in  his  captaincy  as  firmly 
as  any  one  in  the  village,  and  who,  in  the  age  of  his  title, 
forgot  its  origin. 

"Let  me  see.  It  was  John  mother  talked  about?"  said 
Salanda,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Aunt  Provy. 

"  Is  n't  that  Captain  Mayferrie's  first  name  ?"  asked 
Salanda. 

"  John — John.  I  believe  it  is,"  said  Aunt  Provy,  with  a 
most  wonderful  pretense  of  having  a  great  deal  of  doubt  upon 
the  subject 

"  I  mean  to  ask  Jason  some  time,"  said  Salanda,  "  if  there 
was  not  a  John  Chesslebury." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  2*73 

This  conversation  ended  as  indefinitely  as  twenty  similar 
ones  had  ended  before.  But  as  Salanda  went  up  to  her  room 
she  had  a  half-formed  suspicion — which  she  dared  not  confess, 
even  to  herself.  As  she  knelt  before  her  heavenly  Father  that 
night,  she  prayed  long  and  earnestly  that  He  would  guide  her 
to  her  earthly  father.  As  she  arose,  she  arose  with  a  deter- 
mination to  discover,  if  it  were  possible,  who  he  was.  In  the 
darkness  she  began  to  revolve  plans  for  carrying  that  deter- 
mination into  effect ;  and  she  tried  to  recollect  her  conver- 
sations with  Captain  Mayferrie,  and  what  he  had  said  to  her, 
and  did  he  look  any  thing  like  her,  and  was  his  name  Ches- 
slebury,  if  so,  was  not  Jason  a  relative  of  his,  and  if  so,  how 
near,  and  who  was  his  father,  not  John,  oh  no,  not  John  ;  but 
there  was  a  John  somewhere,  and  she  was  going  after  him  in 
the  snow,  and  then  there  was  a  beautiful  lady  dressed  in 
white — in  snow,  that  was  it — who  was  with  her,  and  was — 
no,  it  was  Aunt  Provy  who  was  carrying  her  to  New  York  to 
school  to  learn  to  find  her  father ;  and  there  he  was  in  the 
barn  thrashing,  and  she  was  introduced  to  him,  and  he  shook 
her  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  congratulated  her  for  some- 
thing, and  she  turned  round  to  ask  Aunt  Provy  what  for,  and 
Aunt  Provy  was  Jason,  and  the  barn  Avas  a  church,  and  Cap- 
tain Mayferrie  was  the  Elder,  and  she  was  trembling  so 
violently,  that  even  Jason's  arm  could  not  altogether  steady 
hor,  and  the  church  bells  were  ringing  merrily,  and — and — 
and  the  sun  was  shining  brightly  into  her  room,  and  Aunt 
Provy  was  ringing  the  first  bell,  as  she  always  did,  as 
regularly  as  the  clock-hands  pointed  to  six  o'clock,  whether 
every  body  were  up  and  wide  awake  or  no. 


12* 


^ 

274  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Just  at  the  time  when  Aunt  Provy's  bell  forbade  the  banns 
at  Salanda's  wedding,  Mrs.  Graynes  went  up  to  Jason's  room  to 
awaken  him. 

"  Jason !  Jason  !  come,  get  up,  Jason !"  cried  she,  calling 
through  the  key-hole  of  his  chamber  door. 

No  answer. 

"  Come,  get  up,  Jason !"  continued  she,  rattling  the  door. 
"  He  always  sleeps  so  light,  too,"  she  continued,  soliloquizing, 
and  stooping  down  to  peer  through  the  key-hole,  "  I  should 
think,  of  all  mornings  in  the  year,  he  would  be  awake  this." 

So  saying,  Mrs.  Graynes  gently  opened  the  door  a  crack, 
then  widened  the  crack  to  a  considerable  opening,  then  threw 
the  door  wide  open  and  walked  in ;  for  the  room  was  de- 
serted. 

"  He  's  up  before  me,  I  declare,"  said  she. 

So  saying  she  threw  the  bed-clothes  back  over  the  foot- 
board of  the  bedstead,  hung  over  the  back  of  a  chair  Jason's 
every-day  suit  which  he  had^deposited  on  the  floor,  picked  up 
a  pin  which  her  careful  eye  discerned  upon-the  carpet,  opened 
the  window,  and  leaned  out  to  take  a  breath  of  fresh  air  and  a 
view  of  Cone  Cut  Corners  by  sunrise. 

The  village  was  now  wide  awake.  The  Cone  Cut  cannon 
had  been  carrying  on  an  animated  Conversation  with  the  hills 
for  some  time  past,  and  still  kept  it  up.  The  academy  bell 
had  wagged  its  tongue  incessantly  ever  since  four  o'clock.  In 
the  road,  and  on  the  paths,  and  scattered  about  the  yards,  lay 
the  bursted  bodies  of  patriotic  fire-crackers,  in  numbers  suffi- 
cient, one  would  think,  to  celebrate  the  Fortieth  of  July,  if 
that  uncommon  anniversary  should  ever  arrive, — let  alone  the 
annually-recurring  Fourth.  And  constantly  a  meritorious 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  275 

horse-pistol,  in  tbo  yard  of  Gregory  Donoe's  tavern,  exhibited 
a  perseverance  in  well-doing  amidst  a  very  evil  report,  which 
was  worthy  to  be  a  pattern  and  example  to  the  Cone  Cutters 
from  that  day  forward. 

"  Mercy  on  me !"  said  Mrs  Graynes,  "  what  a  racket  al- 
ready." 

And  she  shut  down  the  window,  and  went  down  stairs.  If 
she  could  have  seen  Jason  at  the  moment,  she  would  have 
perceived  him  standing  upon  a  ladder  erected  in  the  church, 
by  the  side  of  the  pulpit,  nailing  up  the  oak  and  evergreen 
motto  which  Salanda  had  prepared  for  the  occasion.  * 

The  cannon  which  had  awakened  Jason  so  early  this  morn- 
ing did  not  produce  a  like  effect  upon  Captain  Mayferrie.  He 
slept  through  all  the  noise  of  the  noisy  morning,  nor  did  he 
show  any  signs  of  wakefulness,  until  nearly  eight  o'clock.  To 
be  sure  his  house  was  somewhat  removed  from  the  village,  and, 
moreover,  in  his  military  career,  he  might  have  become  accus- 
tomed to  noises  which  awaken  more  peacefully-employed 
men.  But  at  all  events,  whatever  might  have  been  the  reason, 
it  was  late  before  Captain  Mayferrie  came  to  any  sense  of  In- 
dependence. 

At  length,  however,  from  very  weariness  of  sleep,  he  began 
to  awake,  and  after  one  or  two  uneasy  tossings,  half  opening, 
half  shutting  his  eyes,  he  gave  a  desperate  yawn,  and  sat  up 
in  bed. 

"  It  must  be  pretty  late,"  said  he  ;  "  I  guess  I  '11  get  up." 

And  then  he  did  what  all  men  do  under  similar  circum- 
stances— he  did  not  get  up  at  all,  but  sat  still  thinking 
about  it. 

"  J  declare,"  said  he  at  length,  running  his  fingers  through 


276  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

his  hair,  and  brushing  it  off  his  forehead,  "  it  was  bad  enough, 
Charlotte,  for  you  to  drink  yourself  to  death  to  begin  with, 
without  bothering  me  this  way  after  you  're  dead." 

At  length  he  got  fairly  out  of  bed.  His  first  proceeding 
then  was  to  refresh  himself  by  a  drink  from  a  suspicious-look- 
ing bottle,  standing  upon  the  mantle-piece.  The  refreshment 
seemed  effectual,  for  he  straightened  himself  up  in  a  military 
fashion,  struck  himself  two  or  three  smart  blows  on  the  chest, 
went  through  a  boxing  match  with  an  imaginary  foe,  and, 
having  vanquished  him,  went  to  the  window  to  look  out. 

The  prospect  was  not  as  pleasant  as  was  the  same  prospect 
out  of  that  same  window  ten  years  ago.  The  gate  had  fallen 
off  its  hinges,  and  stood  leaning  up  against  the  fence.  The 
whitewash  had  been  beaten  off  in  streaks  by  the  rain,  and 
had  left  the  fence  a  dirty  white.  In  one  place,  too,  some  cat- 
tle had  broken  in,  to  get  at  the  Captain's  corn,  and  the  gap 
had  never  been  mended.  As  the  Captain  unfastened  the 
blind  to  swing  it  back,  the  hinge — it  only  hung  on  one — gave 
way,  and  the  blind  fell  with  a  crash  to  the  ground. 

"  Go  it,  old  boy,"  said  he. 

He  looked  around,  as  if  for  something  to  throw  after  it. 
But  the  other  blind  was  already  down,  so  he  contented  him- 
self with  looking  at  it. 

"  I  believe  Calick  was  right,"  said  he.  "  I  am  going  to  the 
devil  as  fast  as  she  did." 

And  then  he  went  back  and  took  another  drink  from  the 
bottle  on  the  mantle-piece. 

Calick  had  left  Captain  Mayferrie's.  It  was  the  town  talk 
when  he  first  left,  for  Galick  and  the  Captain  had  always  been 
warm  friends.  But  as  Calick  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  never 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  277 

assigned,  even  to  his  aunt,  any  other  reason  for  his  leaving 
than  that  the  Captain  did  not  need  him  any  longer,  the  town 
in  the  usual  time  came  to  talk  no  more  about  it. 

Martha  had  gone  away  too.  And  Martha's  place  was  filled 
by  Mrs.  Spyke. 

Mrs.  Spyke  was  a  lady  who  had  seen  and  felt  some  forty 
winters ; — and  they  had  frozen  her.  She  was  extremely 
frigid.  She  had  a  cold  head,  a  cold  heart,  cold  hands,  and  a 
long  and  evidently  cold  nose.  She  was  crooked  also  ;  she 
had  a  crook  in  her  shoulders,  a  crook  in  her  chin,  and  a  nose 
all  crook.  She  was  cross-eyed,  cross-visaged,  and  cross- 
worded.  How  she  ever  succeeded  in  attaching  herself  to 
Captain  Mayferrie,  had  been  the  town  talk  too,  but  the  usual 
buzz  having  taken  place,  and  nothing  having  been  found  out, 
the  village  left  Mrs.  Spyke  and  Captain  Mayferrie  alone,  and 
talked  of  other  things. 

This  morning,  Captain  Mayferrie,  having  finished  his  toilet, 
went  down  stairs,  and  there  found  Mrs.  Spyke  sitting  by  the 
kitchen  fire,  warming  her  cold  hands,  and  rubbing  her  cold 
nose,  and  watching  some  cold  beans  left  at  dinner  yesterday, 
and  carefully  economised  for  this  morning's  breakfast. 

"  Good  morning  to  you,  Mrs.  Spyke,"  said  Captain  May- 
ferrie. 

"  No,  it 's  not  a  good  morning  to  me,  either,"  said  Mrs. 
Spyke,  with  about  the  same  amiability  of  tone  and  manner 
that  a  cat  usually  assumes  when  engaged  in  familiar  conver- 
sation with  a  dog,  "  and  it 's  no  use  saying  it  is.  I  expect 
to  have  my  head  blowed  off  before  night.  I  always  do, 
Fourth  of  July." 

Mr.  Mayferrie's  countenance  probably  expressed  some  re- 


278  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

gret  at  this  annually-recurring  catastrophe,  for  the  good  lady 
added  :— 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.     I  always  expect  to." 

"  Oh  !"  said  Mr.  Mayferrie. 

The  temperature  of  the  chilly  beans  having  been  by  this 
time  somewhat  raised,  Mrs.  Spyke  placed  them  upon  the  table, 
which  was  already  set,  and  they  sat  down  to  breakfast. 

It  "was  a  very  different  breakfast  from  that  which  Calick 
and  Martha  shared  with  the  Captain,  in  December,  1835. 

By  the  time  Mr.  Mayferrie  got  through  his  morning  meal 
it  was  nearly  nine  o'clock.  The  noisy  patriotism  of  Cone  Cut 
Corners  had  for  a  time  somewhat  subsided.  The  cannon  had 
spent  its  breath,  and  had  been  wheeled  back  into  the  gun- 
house  again. 

And  now  the  farmers'  wagons  begin  to  come  in  from  the 
surrounding  country,  in  long  procession.  Old  farmers  come, 
bringing  their  -wives  and  children,  the  two  boys — there  are 
always  two  boys  in  these  wagons — sitting  in  the  back  of  the 
wagon,  with  their  legs  dangling  out  behind.  Young  farmers 
come  with  their  —  well,  say  cousins,  every  wagon  bringing 
two  young  ladies  and  one  young  man.  All  the  young  ladies  are 
in  unmitigated  white ;  all  the  young  men  in  unmitigated  black ; 
and  all  the  boys  with  clean  faces  and  smoothly-sleeked  hair, 
and  the  broadest  possible  turn-down  collars,  and  altogether 
looking  very  nice,  and  feeling  very  strange  by  reason  of  hav- 
ing on  their  veiy  best  suits  in  the  week  time. 

Now  passes  a  hay-cart  fitted  up  for  the  occasion,  loaded 
with  merry  fellows  from  Cone  Cut  Hill,  who  bring  Captain 
Mayferrie  to  the  window  with  their  shouts  as  they  rattle  down 
the  road.  New  comes  a  baker's  cart  jogging  along,  for  Cone 


COXE     CUT     CORNERS.  279 

Cut  Corners  furnishes  a  good  market  for  gingerbread  to-day. 
And  then  the  procession  goes  on  again  unbroken,  of  white 
dresses  and  streaming  ribbons,  and  stiff  young  men  sitting 
gingerly  in  ladies'  laps,  and  mammas  on  the  front  seats  of 
wagons  carefully  holding  on  by  the  coat-collar  to  sprucely- 
dressed  boys  sitting  in  behind. 

And  now  the  academy  bell  which  slept  at  breakfast-time — 
sometime  before  the  Captain's  breakfast — wakes  up  again; 
for  Esquire  Clegge,  the  village  lawyer,  delivers  the  Fourth  of 
July  oration  to-day  in  the  Cone  Cut  Meeting-house.  Now 
the  farmers,  leaving  their  companions  in  the  meeting-house, 
proceed  to  make  their  horses  comfortable  by  tying  them  with 
long  ropes  to  the  fence,  and  putting  under  each  of  their  re- 
spective noses  a  bushel  basket  of  fresh  grass,  produced  from 
under  the  wagon  seat.  Now  the  people  from  the  village 
come  hurrying  in.  Now  the  gentlemen  who  came  early,  and 
got  front  seats,  rise  to  give  them  to  ladies  who  came  late,  and 
got  no  seat  at  all ;  and  gentlemen  who  came  not  so  early,  and 
got  back  seats,  congratulate  themselves  on  their  position. 
Now,  the  church  being  full,  every  seat  occupied,  the  aisles 
and  doorways  crowded  with  gentlemen,  the  very  windows 
filled  with  boys  who  clamber  in  and  out  during  the  oration, 
the  performances  begin. 

These  are  of  the  usual  description. 

There  is  first  a  highly  oratorical  reading  of  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence  by  Deacon  Ficksom.  There  is 
next  a  grand  performance  of  sublime  choruses  and  imprac- 
ticable glees  selected  from  the  North  American  Feathered 
Songster,  every  one  of  which  ends  with  a  tra-la-la-la ;  and  this 
performance  attracts  great  attention,  inasmuch  as  the  choir 


280  COKE    CCT    CORNERS. 

is  increased  to-day  by  the  addition  of  a  flute  and  a  violin, 
who  on  Sunday  attend  a  neighboring  church.  There  is,  over 
and  above  all  these,  a  patriotic  and  spirit-stirring  oration  by 
Esquire  Clegge,  which  may  be  described  in  brief  to  be  the 
spirit  of  1776  in  bottles  of  1852,  and  in  which  the  orator 
gives  his  hearers,  as  something  novel,  a  general  review  of  the 
history  of  our  Revolution,  with  copious  extracts  from  cotem- 
poraneous  writers  in  general,  and  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence in  particular,  together  with  a  sketch  of  the  subsequent 
rise  and  progress  of  the  United  States  under  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment, and  a  full  exposition  of  its  present  greatness  and 
glory ;  in  the  whole  of  which  address  the  orator  says  much 
about  the  liberties  established  by  our  forefathers  in  1776, 
but  carefully  abstains  from  making  any,  even  the  most  dis- 
tant allusion  to  the  feet  that  there  might  be  some  liberties 
which  it  was  desirable  should  be  cared  for  by  their  sons 
in  1852. 

The  exercises  at  length  being  concluded  very  much  to  every 
one's  satisfaction,  the  audience  crowds  its  way  out,  the  ladies 
crushed  and  crumpled,  the  gentlemen  tired  and  hungry,  the 
boys  merry  and  noisy,  the  Deacon  sleepy  and  thirsty,  and  the 
orator  elate  and  modest. 

Aunt  Provy  and  Salanda  are  among  the  last  to  leave  the 
church,  for  Calick  is  sexton,  and  has  to  shut  up  the  house 
after  the  audience  has  left.  They  wait  for  him  in  the  porch, 
and  the  three  go  home  together.  There  is  no  side-walk  to 
the  Cone  Cut  streets,  and  they  walk  in  the  beaten-track  in  the 
middle  of  the  road. 

"  What  an  eloquent  speaker  Squire  Clegge  is,  don't  you 
think  so  ?"  said  Aunt  Provy.  "  His  language  is  so  easy  and 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS..  281 

flowing,  and  he  has  such  large  ideas  of  things — I  mean  such 
general  ideas." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Salanda,  "  I  don't  know  but  he  had 
general  ideas.  I  did  not  think  he  had  any  ideas  in  particu- 
lar." 

"  Why,  Salanda,  I  am  sure  he  had  very  large  ideas ;  about 
liberty,  and — er — glory — and — er — all  those  things  you  know. 
It  was  very  fine  I  thought.  Only  I  wish  he  did  n't  wear  his 
handkerchief  in  his  coat-tail  pocket.  Do  you  like  to  see  a 
man  wear  his  handkerchief  in  his  coat-tail  pocket?  Don't 
you  think  it  looks  a  great  deal  better  to  wear  it  in  one's  breast- 
pocket. It  looks  so  grace — %" 

"  Hi  yi !"  shouted  some  one  from  the  side  of  the  road, 
"  Out  of  the  way." 

Aunt  Provy  screamed  at  the  top  of  her  voice — and  that 
was  pretty  high  up  too, — and,  clutching  Salanda,  attempted  to 
run  in  one  direction,  while  Salanda  tried  to  escape  in  the 
other. 

There  was  a  gig  coming  down  the  road  at  a  rapid  pace. 
A  gig  with  wheels  so  large,  and  body  so  little,  that  it  looked 
all  wheels  and  no  body.  The  driver  pulled  up  his  horse  just 
in  time  to  avoid  running  over  Aunt  Provy ;  and  he  did  this 
so  suddenly  that  he  had  to  catch  hold  of  the  back  of  the  seat 
to  save  himself  from  being  thrown  head  foremost. 

It  was  Captain  Mayferrie. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies,"  said  he,  rising  in  his  seat  and 
bowing  to  them.  "  Really  I  was  not  aware  that  the  meeting 
was  out.  Salanda,  won't  you  ride  home  ?" 

Salanda  wondered  how  she  was  expected  to  get  up  there, 
and  where  it  was  supposed  she  was  to  sit  when  she  got  there. 


282  C'ONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

But  she  did  not  ask ;  she  thanked  the  Captain,  and  declined 
his  offer. 

Then  the  Captain,  touching  his  hat  to  the  ladies,  gathered 
up  his  reins,  and  started  up  the  horse ;  and  the  gig  in  a  mo- 
ment was  whirling  down  the  hill  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  while 
Calick,  Aunt  Provy  and  Salanda  went  on  toward  home. 


XXIII. 

JULY,    1852. 


AT  home,  and  dinner  over,  Aunt  Provy  and  Salanda  began 
to  prepare  for  the  picnic.  For  there  was  to  be  a  Sabbath- 
school  picnic  that  afternoon,  in  a  romantic  spot,  a  favorite 
with  the  young  people  of  the  village.  Their  preparations 
consisted  of  packing  the  most  inviting  of  all  the  tempting  pro- 
ductions of  Aunt  Provy's  kitchen  in  large  baskets  for  Calick 
to  bring,  and  in  small  baskets  for  Aunt  Provy  and  Salanda  to 
carry. 

These  arrangements  having  been  completed,  the  ladies  put 
on  their  sun-bonnets,  and  declared  to  Calick  that  they  were 
ready  to  go. 


284  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

The  location  of  the  picnic  was  about  a  mile  below  the  vil- 
lage ;  that  is  to  say,  only  a  mile  if  you  go  in  a  straight  line 
across  the  fields,  as  bees  go  to  a  flower-garden,  or  boys  and 
girls  to  a  wood-frolic ;  but  tlien  if  you  go  round  by  the  road 
— a  country  road — the  way  men  go  with  beasts  of  burden,  it 
was  a  mile  and  three  quarters,  and  a  stretch  at  that.  - 

The  picnic  ground  was  in  the  woods — among  the  rocks — 
by  the  water. 

The  woods  \^ere  such  glorious  old  woods  that  nobody  who 
had  a  soul  would  have  dared  to  cut  them  down.  It  might  be 
deemed  certain  that  that  was  the  reason  they  were  never  in- 
terfered with  by  the  villagers,  if  we  knew  that  Gregory 
Donoe,  and  perhaps  Deacon  Ficksom,  had  no  interest  in  the 
land  they  blessed.  They  were  not  the  ugly,  thick  set  woods, 
full  of  brambles  snarling  at  each  other,  and  bigger  trees  that 
ought  to  know  better  pitching  into  each  other  in  every  direc- 
tion. They  were  not  the  second  growth,  those  most"  un- 
combed and  uncomely  locks  that  disfigure  the  face  of  nature. 
They  were  glorious  old  woods,  where  the  trees  looked  as  if 
they  had  got  up  above  this  world,  and  were  going  on,  arm  in 
arm,  toward  heaven.  Up  there  are  the  places  where  the  wood- 
robin  sings  very  early  in  the  freshness  of  the  morning  ;  Salan- 
da  knows  it.  There,  too,  is  the  singing-gallery  of  a  bird  who' 
chants  only  when  she  fancies  herself  alone,  and  then,  never 
but  one  tune,  and  that  a  slow,  deliberate  and  careful  one, 
almost  mournful,  were  it  not  that  it  is  so  beautiful,  so  musical 
in  its  simple  interval,  and  so  loud  and  clear  of  tone.  Salanda 
never  knew  this  bird's  name,  nor  could  she  learn  it ;  but  she 
often  came  to  hear  its  music,  and  in  these  very  woods  too. 
The  woods  were  not  beset  with  underbrush,  but  clear  and 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  285 

free  ;  and  from  the  carpet  of  brown  leaves  away  up  to  the 
canopy  of  green,  there  was  nothing  to  obstruct  the  view,  or 
hinder  the  wanderings  of  the  cool  breezes,  whose  milder  dis- 
positions led  them  to  seek  this  haunt  on  sweltering  days,  and 
play  gently  in  the  shade. 

It  was  among  the  rocks,  too.  Gray  old  boulders,  peeping 
out  under  the  leaves  here  and  there.  Noble  stones  for  seats, 
these,  and  now  and  then  larger  ones  appropriated  sometimes 
by  the  young  people  for  picnic  tables.  Then  as  one  wander- 
ed further  from  the  stream,  they  peered  out  of  the  hillside  be- 
tween the  trees ;  the  solid  underpinning  of  a  mountain. 

These  things  were  all  very  well  for  the  girls  and  romantic 
people,  as  Jason  said,  but  the  real  beauty  of  the  place  was  the 
brook.  It  was  "  a  great  brook,"  according  to  the  opinion  of 
that  young  gentleman.  But  the  unsophisticated  reader  must 
not  infer  that  it  was  a  large  brook.  It  was  great,  not  in  size, 
but  in  contents.  It  was  a  multum  of  trout  in  a  parvo  of  water. 
It  rose  in  little  springs  upon  the  mountain,  and  came  dashing 
down  through  a  narrow  little  valley  of  its  own ;  wound 
through  the  picnic-ground  among  the  rocks  and  the  woods, 
until  gradually,  like  many  other  country  folk,  who  leave  their 
hills  and  seek  to  mingle  in  a  larger  body  of  their  kind,  it  lost 
its  primitive,  honest,  straight-forward  character,  took  to 
roundabout,  sinuous  ways,  in  which  it  stole  clandestinely 
through  a  short  space  of  meadow  in  a  serpentine  course, 
coming  at  its  ends  in  underhand  ways,  hiding  under  long 
grass  and  alders,  frothing  at  opposition  and  undermining  its 
boundaries,  until  at  last  it  was  swallowed  up  and  inextricably 
lost  in  the  Cone  Cut  Pond. 

This  pond  was  a  body  of  water  supplied  by  a  number  of 


286  CONE     CUT     COKNERS. 

little  brooks  from  the  hills  around,  and  supplying  in  its  turn  a 
mill-stream,  which,  five  miles  down  the  valley,  drove  the  Cone 
Cut  Mills.  This  body  of  water  was  known  among  the  ladies 
of  the  village  as  Crystal  Lake ;  but  it  bore  among  the  farmers 
of  the  region  the  more  euphonious  title  of  Bull  Horse  Pond. 
It  really  was,  though,  deserving  of  the  title  of  lake.  It  was 
two  miles  from  head  to  foot — from  the  picnic  ground  to  the 
outlet — as  it  lay  curled  up  asleep  in  the  valley.  If  you  could 
imagine  it  to  get  up  and  straighten  itself  out,  it  would  grow 
four  or  five.  Its  shores  were  all  full  of  queer  hiding-places 
and  cozy  nooks,  little  bays  and  creeks ;  promontories  reaching 
out  from  each  side,  as  if  trying  to  meet  each  other  and  shake 
hands  in  the  middle  of  the  lake.  And  along  the  banks  of  the 
lake,  here  and  there,  trees  came  crowding  down  and  peeping 
over  each  other's  heads  and  between  each  other's  branches,  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  themselves  in  the  water. 

To  these  woods,  and  toward  this  picnic-ground,  the  infantry 
of  Cone  Cut,  marshaled  in  companies — according  to  their  profi- 
ciency in  the  catechism,  and  more  particularly  in  Newcomb's 
Questions — were  marching,  the  head  of  the  column,  adorned  by 
a  banner  borne  by  four  boys  in  the  most  approved  style,  and 
proclaiming  in  golden  letters  the  motto,  "  Cold  Water." 

The  history  of  this  flag  was  briefly  this. 

Jason's  speech  at  the  temperance  meeting,  though  it  did 
not  incite  others  to  a  very  effective  working,  had  at  least  the 
good  effect  to  incite  himself,  and  he  immediately  began 
to  cany  his  plan  into  operation  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  by 
inducing  a  number  of  boys  in  the  village,  who  never  did 
drink  any  thing  but  water,  who  did  not  want  to  drink  any 
thing  but  water,  and  who  could  not  get  any  thing  but  water 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  287 

to  drink,  to  pledge  themselves  that  they  never  would  drink 
any  thing  but  water.  These  forming  a  company  of  some  fifty, 
constituted  a  cold-water  army,  had  occasional  exhibitions 
in  the  academy,  and  inarched,  and  counter-marched  a  good 
deal  about  the  village.  Exhibitions,  however,  losing  their 
novelty,  and  marching  growing  rather  dull,  the  cold-water 
army  began  to  lose  numbers,  and  flag  in  zeal.  Then  the 
young  ladies  of  the  village  conspired  together,  and  with  their 
own  fair  hands  embroidered  the  banner  in  question.  Notice 
having  been  given  of  this  fact,  old  deserters  having  returned, 
and  new  recruits  having  been  brought  in  by  the  intelligence, 
a  day  was  set,  the  boys  all  marched  in  solemn  procession  by 
the  most  roundabout  way  they  could  conceive  of,  to  the 
academy,  a  troop  of  thirty  girls  happened  in,  quite  acci- 
dentally, with  the  flag,  and  presented  it  amid  much  excite- 
ment, and  no  less  to  the  surprise  than  to  the  gratification  of 
their  unworthy  soldiers ;  at  least  so  the  commander  said  in 
his  reply,  which  did  him,  it  must  be  said,  great  credit  for  so 
impromptu  an  effort. 

This  was  the  history  of  the  cold-water  banner. 

At  first  the  little  column  moved  with  demure  gravity  and 
solemnity ;  then  with  irregularities  of  maneuver,  induced  by 
obstacles  of  fences,  and  with  consequent  mirthful  disregard  of 
the  rules  of  military  discipline,  and  now  and  then  a  desertion ; 
until  when,  at  the  edge  of  the  wood  the  banner  was  lowered, 
with  all  joyous  freedom  the  whole  troop  broke  line  and 
scattered  themselves  among  the  trees. 

At  first  they  rambled  about  in  the  grove,  the  girls  picking 
flowers,  the  boys  climbing  trees  and  tumbling  over  the  rocks, 
in"  total  disregard  of  best  clothes.  Gradually,  however,  they 


288  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

collected  together  around  the  picnic  tables,  extemporized  for 
the  occasion  out  of  long  pine  boards  and  empty  barrels.  All 
numbered,  old  and  young,  there  were  about  one  hundred 
there. 

The  invitation  which  the  Elder  had  given  out  on  Sunday 
was  addressed  to  all  interested  in  Sabbath-schools.  It  must 
have  done  his  heart  good  to  have  seen  how  many  in  the 
village  there  were  who  included  themselves  in  that  de- 
scription. 

It  is  curious  how  many  people  always  are  interested  in 
Sabbath-schools  on  such  occasions. 

The  company  being  collected  around  the  table,  and  the 
boys,  with  some  difficulty,  being  reduced  to  silence,  the  Elder 
made  a  few  remarks — a  very  few,  for  the  boys  were  all 
impatient,  and  the  Elder  has  at  least  this  requisite  of  a  good 
speaker,  that  he  knows  when  to  make  his  speeches  short 
Then  all  turn  upon  the  tables  with  a  right  good  will,  the 
wiser  ones  of  the  company  separating  in  groups,  and  appro- 
priating chairs  and  sofas,  made  to  hand  by  nature,  in  the 
grass  and  rocks. 

Captain  Mayferrie  was  not  interested  in  Sabbath-schools. 
Xor  was  Gregory  Donoe.  And  just  at  this  time  Captain 
Mayferrie  was  resting  himself  on  a  nail-keg  in  Gregory  Do- 
noe's  store,  and  Captain  Mayferrie's  horse  was  resting  himself 
in  the  road  outside. 

Gregory  Donoe  did  a  good  business  to-day ;  a  large  busi- 
ness in  fire-crackers,  which  went  off  better  in  his  store  by  the 
pack,  than  they  did  out  of  his  store  individually.  Then  he 
had  a  great  pail  of  lemonade,  flavored  of  tartaric  acid  and 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  289 

essence  of  lemon,  with  the  peel  of  one  lemon  floating  on  the 
surface  to  give  it  a  color  of  respectability.  This  pail  had  to 
be  frequently  refilled,  the  same  lemon  doing  service  in  many 
pailfuls  of  lemonade,  and  was  constantly  surrounded  by 
greedy-eyed  boys ;  bad  boys  these,  not  interested  in  Sabbath- 
schools.  Then  in  the  darker  end  of  the  store,  behind  the 
counter,  there  was  another  pail,  the  contents  of  which  were 
only  known  to  a  comparatively  few  of  the  more  knowing 
ones,  but  which,  too,  had  to  be  refilled  occasionally,  and  was 
now  getting  in  more  request.  To  this  Captain  Mayferrie  re- 
sorted after  each  race,  and  now,  as  the  afternoon  passed  on, 
his  independence  began  to  show  itself  more  distinctly  by  a 
general  defiance  to  any  one  to  produce  an  animal  who  could 
compare  with  his  Roan. 

"  I  tell  you,  Gregory,"  said  he,  taking  that  gentleman  by 
the  lappel  of  his  coat,  "  there  ain't  an  animal  as  can  hold  a 
candle  to  her.  Not  an  animal." 

"  Do  you  want  to  try  it,  Capp'n  ?"  said  one  of  the  com- 
pany, an  overgrown  boy,  who  was  sitting  on  the  stove  drum- 
ming it  with  his  feet. 

"You!"  said  the  Captain  contemptuously,  turning  quite 
fiercely  round  upon  him,  "  you  !  I  could  beat  your  team  with 
a  saw-horse." 

"  Ya-as,"  said  he,  "  Mebbe  you  want  to  try." 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  the  Captain. 

The  overgrown  boy,  at  this  challenge,  tumbled  lazily  off  the 
stove,  opened  the  top  of  it  and  dropped  in  the  quid  of  tobacco 
he  was  chewing.  He  then  performed  an  intricate  wink  at 
Gregory  Donoe,  and  thence  proceeded  to  the  door  to  prepare 
for  the  race,  accompanied  by  the  little  crowd  of  loungers. 
13 


290  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Captain  May  feme  in  some  way  became'  confused,  whether 
in  getting  off  the  nail-keg,  which  he  did  backward  with  much 
care  and  some  anxiety,  or  in  what  other  manner,  can  not  EOAV 
with  certainty  be  ascertained ;  but  certain  it  is,  that  instead 
of  going  straight  to  the  door,  where  he  undoubtedly  intended 
to  go,  he  proceeded  in  exactly  the  opposite  direction,  so  that 
at  the  time  when  he  should  have  been  getting  into  his  gig,  he 
was  actually  employed  very  near  the  mysterious  pail  behind 
the  counter,  at  the  darker  end  of  the  store.  Thus  it  hap- 
pened that  some  time  elapsed  after  the  overgrown  boy  reached 
the  door-step  before  the  Captain  made  his  appearance. 

This  lapse  of  time  the  overgrown  boy  employed  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner.  First  he  drew  from  his  coat-pocket  a  bunch 
of  fire-crackers,  which  he  lengthened  out  from  their  original 
compact  form  into  a  long  string.  He  then  got  down  under 
the  Captain's  gig,  and  seating  himself  comfortably  there,  pro- 
ceeded to  fasten  the  fire-crackers  securely  to  the  axle.  This 
done,  he  got  up  again,  took  from  his  pocket  a  piece  of  de- 
cayed wood  of  that  kind  technically  known  as  punk,  which 
he  lighted  with  a  match  taken  from  his  pocket  for  the  pur- 
pose. This  was  a  work  of  some  little  time,  for  the  wind 
would  blow  out  the  match,  and  the  punk  was  obstinate  and  re- 
fused to  be  coaxed  to  burn.  At  length,  however,  he  accom- 
plished his  task. 

"  Well,  Capp'n,"  said  he,  "  are  you  ready  ?" 

"  Aye !  aye !"  said  the  Captain,  from  within  the  store, 
':  I  'm  your  man,  sir.  All  right.  Here  I  am.  You  don't  find 
me  a  backing  out,  I  reckon.  No,  fir,  I  'in  on  hand,  I  am." 

Quite  a  little  crowd  had  by  this  time  collected  around  the 
door  to  see  the  sport.  They  made  room  for  the  Captain.  He 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  291 

unfastened  his  horse,  and  climbed,  with  some  difficulty,  over 
the  large  wheel  into  the  little  seat. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  gathering  up  his  reins,  "  are  you  ready  ?" 

"  All  ready,"  said  the  overgrown  boy,  appearing  from  under 
the  gig,  where,  unseen  to  the  Captain,  he  had  been  fastening 
the  pack  a  little  more  securely  in  its  place.  "  Start  when  the 
whip  cracks." 

And  he  lighted  the  fusee  of  the  pack  with  the  burning 
punk. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  the  Captain,  "  and  I  '11  give  you  a  start." 

"  Crack !"  said  the  first  cracker. 

The  horse  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  the  Captain  drew  taut 
the  rein. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  he. 

"Crack!  crack!  crack!" 

The  horse  reared  up,  and  stood  erect  on  his  hind  legs. 

"  Confound  it ;  stop  that  whip,"  said  the  Captain.  * 

"  Cr-r-r-rack !  crack !" 

"  Go  it,  then,"  said  the  Captain. 

The  horse  needed  but  the  loosened  rein.  She  was  away 
like  the  wind  in  a  moment. 

"  Cr-r-r-r-rack  !  cr-rack  !     Crack  !  crack  !  crack  !" 

"  Go  it,"  shouted  the  Captain.     "  No  you  don't,  old  boy." 

"  Crack !  crack  !  cr-rack  !  crack  !  crack  !  Cr-r-r-r-rack  ! 
crack !" 

«  Hi— e !" 

And  the  gig  disappeared  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  amid  the  shouts 
of  the  crowd. 

It  was  not  until  the  fire-crackers  had  said  all  they  had  to 
say,  and  had  quite  spent  themselves,  that  Roan  began,  of  her 


292  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

M 

own  accord,  to  slacken  her  speed,  and  the  Captain  looked 
around  to  see  what  had  become  of  his  competitor. 

"  Ho !  ho !  ho !"  laughed  he.  "  I  have  beat  him  out  of  sight 
already.  But  it 's  too  bad  for  a  man  to  thrash  his  horse  like 
that,  if  he  is  racing." 

The  day  was  very  hot  The  Cone  Cut  .people  considered 
it  the  hottest  Fourth  they  had  known  in  twenty  years, 
which,  considering  it  was  the  Fifth,  was  very  extraordinary ; 
and  so  continued  to  consider  it  until  the  next  Fourth.  Con- 
tinual racing  was  beginning  to  tell  upon  the  Captain's  horse, 
and  though  she  kept  up  good  speed  yet,  she  ran  less  easily, 
stumbled  occasionally,  and  showed,  to  the  Captain's  practiced 
eye,  evident  signs  of  being  nearly  beaten  out  It  was  not 
much  wonder,  for  he  had  done  little  else  during  the  day  than 
to  test  her  fleetness  through  the  town.  So  the  Captain  gradu- 
ally reined  her  in,  reducing  her  speed  from  a  frightened  run 
to  a  gentle  trot,  and  from  that  to  a  lazy  walk. 

"Well,  Roan,  what  next?"  said  he.  And  he  pushed  his 
straw  hat  back  on  his  head,  and  wiped  his  forehead. 

Roan  paid  no  attention  to  this  question,  but  proceeded  on 
just  as  before,  breathing  very  hard,  and  stopping  occasionally 
to  bite  at  a  troublesome  fly.  So  the  Captain  had  to  determine 
for  himself  what  next. 

As  fate  would  have  it,  the  Captain's  race  had  led  him  down 
the  very  road  upon  which,  an  hour  before,  the  picnic  party 
had  started  on  their  way  to  the  woods.  As  they  had  turned 
off  upon  the  short  cut  through  the  fields,  the  Captain  had 
passed  the  region  of  the  picnic-ground,  without  meeting  with 
any  thing  to  remind  him  of  their  near  presence;  and  had  no\v 
come  to  the  shore  of  the  Crystal  Lake,  which  lay  just  beyond 


CONE     CL'T     COIINER6. 

the  mouth  of  the  brook.  There  was  here  a  level  bit  of  road, 
along  the  shore  of  the  pond,  in  fact  nearly  the  only  level  piece 
of  road  there  was  about  Cone  Cut,  which  Roan  instinctively 
improved  by  quickening  her  speed. 

"  Whoa,"  said  the  Captain,  as  they  reached  the  foot  of 
Cartrock's  Hill.  *"  Breathe  now." 

In  obedience  to  this  mandate  the  horse  stopped  just  oppo- 
site an  opening  in  the  trees,  which  afforded  the  Captain  a  full 
view  of  the  lake.  The  water  took  a  beautiful  daguerreotype 
of  the  clouds,  the  mountain  and  the  trees ;  the  Captain 
stopped  to  look  at  it. 

"  That 's  pretty,"  said  he,  "  though  it  is  water ;"  and  he 
laughed  with  a  pleasant  contempt  for  that  element. 

And  then  he  stood  up  in  his  gig,  and  fanned  himself  with 
his  broad-brimmed  l^at.  A  very  refreshing  breath  of  air 
came  across  the  pond,  rubbing  out  the  daguerreotype  in  a 
moment,  and  making  the  water  look  more  temptingly  cool 
than  ever. 

"  I  declare,"  said  he,  "  I  believe  I  '11  take  a  swim." 

So  he  turned  his  horse  out  to  the  side  of  the  road,  fastened 
him  to  the  fence,  climbed  over,  and  went  down  through  the 
trees  to  the  shore. 

"  I  wonder  where  old  Cartrock's  boat  is,"  said  he ;  "  seems 
to  me  he  keeps  it  along  here  somewhere ;  I  should  like  to  get 
out  into  deep  water." 

So  he  walked  back  along  the  shore  of  the  pond,  toward  the 
mouth  of  the  inlet.'  Just  before  he  came  to  the  brook,  he 
found  two  boats  in  a  little  cove,  moored  quite  near  each  other. 
They  were  both  plain  flat-bottomed  scows.  One  was  very  large 
and  heavy,  with  a  ballast  of  rain-water  in  it,  and  was  fastened 


294  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

to  the  shore  by  the  bows  being  pulled  up  high  and  dry.  The 
other  was  light  and  better ;  it  was  fastened  to  a  stake  by  a 
chain  and  a  stout  padlock.  The  Captain  was  not  long  in  un- 
fastening it,  by  pulling  the  stake  out  of  the  mud  and  pitching 
it,  chain,  padlock,  and  all,  into  the  bofet. 

"  Cartrock  might  just  as  well  leave  his  key  handy  for  a  fel- 
low," said  he. 

So  saying,  he  jumped  in  himself  and  paddled  out  into  deeper 
water. 

"  Ugh,"  said  he,  laying  down  his  paddle  and  rising  from  a 
gaze  into  the  water.  "  I  'm  glad  I  ain't  a  fish ;  how  do  they 
live  with  nothing  but  cold  water  to  drink  ?" 

And  he  began  to  prepare  for  an  external  application  of  that 
element  which  had  so  long  served  him  in  no  other  way. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  standing  up  in  the  bows  of  the  boat. 
"  One  ! — two ! — three ! — " 

And  he  made  a  plunge  which  drove  the  boat  back  from 
under  him,  and  brought  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  pond  who 
resided  in  that  neighborhood  to  their  doors  to  see  what  was 
the  matter. 

"  Good,"  he  spluttered,  as  he  came  up  to  the  surface  to 
breathe,  and  paddled  after  the  boat  again. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  just  at  the  time  the  Captain  was 
unfastening  his  boat  and  getting  ready  for  a  swim,  the  picnic 
party  were  about  exhausting,  simultaneously,  their  appetites 
and  their  viands,  and  it  was  proposed  by  Elder  Graynes  that 
they  take  a  little  walk  through  the  woods.  To  this  proposal, 
an  amendment  was  offered  by  Jason  to  the  effect  that  they 
take  a  sail  upon  the  lake  instead.  Thence  followed  a  spirited 
debate,  in  which  the  younger  portion  of  the  community, 


CONE     CUT     COttNEUS.  295 

headed  by  Jason,  clamored  for  the  sail,  while  the  more  con- 
servative class,  ably  represented  by  Aunt  Provy,  insisted  on  the 
walk.  The  debate  became  animated,  and  might  have  terminat- 
ed seriously,  at  least  so  far  as  the  destruction  of  the  good 
feeling  and  harmony  of  $ie  party  can  be  considered  serious, 
had  it  not  occurred  to  Salanda  just  in  the  nick  of  time  that 
it  was  barely  possible  for  those  who  preferred  walking,  to  walk, 
without  absolutely  preventing  those  who  preferred  to  sail  from 
sailing.  She  having  timidly  suggested  this,  and  Aunt  Provy 
highly  approving  the  suggestion,  so  much  so  as  to  adopt  it  as 
her  own  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  and  Calick  adding 
force  to  it  by  the  declaration  that  the  boats  would  not  begin 
to  hold  them  all,  it  was  finally  agreed  that  the  whole  party 
should  go  down  to  the  lake,  and  that  those  who  wished  to  sail 
should  do  so,  while  the  rest  walked  along  the  shore. 

Thus  it  happened,  that  just  as  the  Captain  was  coming  up 
from  his  last  dive,  he  thought  he  heard  voices  on  the  shore, 
and  stopped,  one  hand  on  the  bows  of  the  boat,  to  listen. 

"  Calick,"  said  Elder  Graynes,  as  they  came  down  to  the 
shore  of  the  pond,  "  my  eyes  are  not  so  good  as  they  used  to 
be,  but  is  not  that  the  boat  I  see  off  there  ?" 

"  It  certainly  is,  sir,"  responded  Calick.  "  It  must  have 
floated  off.  We  '11  have  to  go  off  and  get  it." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  do  that  ?"  asked  the  Elder. 

"  Oh,  there  is  another  boat  along  here,"  said  Calick,  "  We 
can  go  out  in  that." 

"  The  devil,"  said  the  Captain.     "  There 's  the  picnic." 
He  took  his  hand  off  the  bow,  and  hung  on  the  chain, 


296  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

peeping  round  the  edge  of  the  boat  to  watch  the  operations 
of  the  party  on  shore. 

"  Halloo !"  shouted  Jason,  who  hail  run  on  before,  and  was 
bailing  the  water  out  of  the  boat  with  a  leaky  tin  pail  which 
he  had  found  there.  "  Here  's  the  boat." 

Calick  and  the  Elder  quickened  their  pace. 

"  I  guess,  Mr.  Jason,"  said  Calick,  "  we  had  better  tip  her 
over.  It  will  take  too  long  to  bail  her  out." 

"  Well,"  said  Jason. 

So  Calick  and  Jason  pulled  the  stern  of  the  boat  upon  the 
shore,  and  then  with  the  assistance  of  a  few  of  the  larger 
boys,  and  the  hinderance  of  all  the  smaller  boys,  tipped  it  over 
and  let  all  the  water  run  out.  They  then  let  it  down  again, 
launched  it  fairly  into  the  water,  and  brought  it  up  to  a  stone 
to  receive  its  load. 

'0  » 

"  Whew !"  said  the  Captain.  "  I  verily  believe  they  are 
coming  after  me." 

He  gradually  lifted  himself  up  until  his  head  was  fairly 
above  the  edge  of  the  boat,  and  surveyed  their  operations  for 
a  moment. 

"Go 'way!"  said  he. 

Then  he  dropped  suddenly  down  again.  In  a  moment,  he 
peered  cautiously  around  the  edge  of  the  boat.  It  was 
evident  that  the  party  had  not  heard  him.  The  wind 
had  taken  his  words  and  carried  them  across  the  lake, 
where  they  got  lost  among  the  trees. 

"  Let 's  have  in  the  flag,"  said  Jason. 

So  he  passed   it  along  to  Salanda,  who  was,  if  we  may 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  297 

be  allowed  that  expression,  bowswoman.  She  stood  it  up- 
right in  the  bows.  The  wind  filled  the  banner  out  like  a  sail. 

"  H'm !"  said  the  Captain,  as  he  saw  these  advancing 
preparations. 

Then  he  lifted  himself  up  gradually,  as  before,  and  shouted, 
this  time  in  a  louder  voice. 

"  Go  'way  /" 

"  What 's  that  ?"  asked  Salanda. 

"  What  ?"  said  Jason. 

"  Hark  !" 

The  whole  party  listened  for  a  moment,  but  heard  nothing. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  some  one  calling,"  said  Salanda. 

*  '& 

The   Captain   peered  round  the  edge  of  the  boat  again. 

The  party  were  going  on  with  their  preparations.  A  boat- 
load were  about  starting  from  the  shore. 

"  Now,"  said  Calick,  "  push  her  off,  Mr.  Jason.  Steady  ! 
Whatever  you  do,  don't  scream,  girls.  There  she  is.  Now 
then,  in  with  you." 

Jason,  jumping  in  at  the  stern,  pushed  the  boat  fairly  off 
into  the  water  with  his  oar. 

"  Now  head  for  the  other  boat,"  said  Calick. 

And  Calick  and  Jason  began  to  row  in  the  direction  of 
Captain  Mayferrie. 

"  Good  gracious !"  said  the  Captain.  He  looked  at  them  a 
moment  in  hesitation,  then  caught  hold  of  the  chain  with  one 
hand,  and  struck  out  to  swim  away  with  the  boat  behind  him. 


298  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  Calick,"  said  Jason,  "  seems  to  me  that  boat 's  moving." 

"  Can't  be,"  said  Calick  ;  "  there  is  n't  any  current  here,  you 
know." 

"  It  certainly  is,"  said  Salanda,  looking  at  it  earnestlv. 
"Perhaps  it's  the  wind." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Calick,  "  there  is  nTt  wind  enough  to  move  it." 

"  But  it  is  moving,"  insisted  Jason.  "  Look  at  it  for  your- 
self and  see." 

"That's  a  fact,"  said  Calick.  "It  is,  and  no  mistake. 
Put  in,  then,  and  we'll  find  out  the  why." 

So  Calick  and  Jason  rowed  harder  than  before,  and  the 
whole  crew  looked  forward  eagerly  to  solve  the  mystery. 

Meanwhile,  on  shore,  Aunt  Provy  had  noticed  that  the  little 
boat  had  commenced  to  move,  and  all  her  party  were  watch- 
ing with  interest  the  inexplicable  race. 

The  Captain  tugged  at  the  chain  with  a  right  good  will, 
but  the  race  was  wholly  unequal.  They  gained  upon  him 
fast. 

"Ready  there,  Salanda,"  said  Jason,  as  their  boat  ap- 
proached the  other. 

The  Captain,  settling  himself  well  down  in  the  water, 
caught  hold  of  the  chain  near  the  bows,  and  stood  still, 
treading  water,  and  ready  for  a  spring. 

"  Now  then,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  all  ready,  old  fellow." 

Salanda,  in  blissful  ignorance,  leaned  forward  and  caught 
hold  of  the  little  boat,  to  draw  it  to  the  lanje  one. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  299 

"  Why  !  here  's  somebody's  clo —  !" 
"  Go  'WAY  !" 

This  shouted  the  Captain,  his  iead  appearing  with  a  spring 
above  the  bows  of  the  boat. 

"  E-e-e-e-e-e  !"  screamed  all  the  girls. 

In  the  midst  of  screaming,  covering  of  faces  with  the 
hands,  dangerous  rocking  to  and  fro  of  the  heavy  boat,  and 
much  confusion,  Jason,  with  a  sweep  of  his  oar  at  the  stern, 
turned  the  boat's  bows  toward  the  shore,  and  made  all  pos- 
sible haste  thither.  And  Captain  Mayferrie,  from  his  place  of 
concealment,  could  discern  Aunt  Provy  on  the  bank,  with  her 
apron  over  her  face,  making  for  the  woods  as  fast  as  she 
could  go. 

The  Captain  remained  quite  still  until  the  party  had  gained 
the  shore  and  disappeared  in  the  woods,  following  Aunt  Provy. 
Then  he  turned  round  and  swam  slowly  and  laboriously  in 
another  direction  toward  the  shore.  Landing  in  a  secluded 
cove  some  half  mile  down  the  lake  from  where  he  found 
the  boat,  he  proceeded  to  prepare  his  toilet,  stopping  occa- 
sionally to  enjoy  a  laugh  or  entertain  a  chagrin  at  his  adven- 
ture. Thence  he  proceeded  by  a  short  cut  across  the  meadows 
to  Roan,  now  growing  anxious  for  the  return  of  her  master. 
Sue  neighed  a  glad  welcome  to  him  as  he  came  across  the 
field. 

Thence  by  a  devious  and  roundabout  road,  avoiding  the  vil- 
lage, he  drove  slowly  home.  For  a  time  he  sat  in  deep 
meditation,  leaning  forward,  his  arms  crossed  on  his  knees. 
At  length  he  took  up  the  reins  and  started  up  his  horse. 


300  CON  KG  V  T     CORNERS. 

"  Well,  well !"  said  he,  "  it 's  a  family  failing.  I  'm  sorry 
for  it,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  It 's  a  family  failing." 

Having  thus  transferred  his  burden  of  his  regretted  habit 
to  the  broad  shoulders  of  the  family,  he  felt  more  light-heart- 
ed, and  prepared  himself  to  enjoy  the  cheerful  society  of  the 
amiable  Mrs.  Spyke. 

If  we  are  to  be  believed,  we  have  human  failings,  national 
failings,  even  family  failings — but  never  individual  failings. 
Strange  !  Captain  Mayferrie,  that  a  family  composed  of  mem- 
bers so  perfect,  individually,  should  be  troubled  with  so  seri- 
ous a  family  failing  collectively — quite  incomprehensible  ! 


*   I* 

& 


XXIV. 

AUGUST,   1852 


DURING  the  win- 
ter   that    passed 
after  the  decease 
of  Jason's  father, 
that  young   gen- 
tleman had  made  no  particular  pro- 
gress in  any  thing,  except  an  al- 
manac advance  toward  years  of  discretion. 

He  did  not  go  back  to  the  Cone  Cut  Academy,  but  re- 
mained for  a  season  at  home.  Finding  home  rather  dull,  he 
traveled  a  short  time.  Finding  traveling  rather  "  slow,"  he 
came  back  to  New  York.  New  York  being  rather  brighter 
than  when  he  left  it,  he  managed  to  get  through  a  few  leisure 
months  without  absolute  weariness. 


302  CONE     CUT    CORKERS. 

He  formed,  meanwhile,  large  plans  of  future  labors  and 
achievements,  and  fed  a  lofty  ambition  upon  somewhat  ethe- 
real and  unsubstantial  food.  Unlike  most  of  that  unfortunate 
class,  the  sons  of  rich  men,  he  rather  disliked  the  idea  of  liv- 
ing upon  other  people's  earnings,  and  producing  nothing  him- 
self. He  was  quite  indifferent  to  the  honor  of  living  in  ease 
on  hereditary  wealth,  as  a  fungus  on  a  decayed  log  feeds  on 
the  remains  of  a  more  substantial  ancestor. 

Jason  had  some  ideas  of  his  own  about  dead  languages ; 
and  he  demonstrated  to  his  mother,  more  by  pertinacity  than 
by  consistency  of  argument,  that  a  diploma  was  no  considera- 
tion to  him,  and  that  four  years  at  college  would  be  nearly 
wasted. 

Yes ;  no  doubt  they  would. 

At  various  times  he  had  various  inclinations. 

He  commenced  an  investigation  into  his  father's  estate,  and 
learned  in  a  month  more  about  its  condition  than  the  three 
executors  combined  had  been  able  to  discover  during  the  six 
months  they  had  been  at  work.  Rummaging  over  the  books 
and  papers  in  the  office,  he  brought  to  light  some  little  indis- 
cretions of  Mr.  Stretch's,  which  brought  surprise  and  conster- 
nation to  the  executors,  and  the  result  of  which  was  that  Mr. 
Stretch  took  down  his  sign  one  morning  and  rather  abruptly 
cfeparted,  leaving  the  executors  to  "get  things  straightened 
out,"  as  best  they  might. 

Then  he  thought  himself  meant  for  a  chemist.  He  took 
great  interest  in  scientific  studies.  He  made  him  a  laboratory 
in  the  fourth  story,  and  evolved  the  worst  smells  of  science 
with  greater  pleasure  than  if  they  had  been  the  fragrance  of 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  303 

Before  he  had  really  learned  any  thing,  except  the  incon- 
venient effects  of  sulphuric  acid  on  the  fingers,  he  turned  his 
attention  to  light  literature.  He  made  researches  in  the  Rhym- 
ing Dictionary,  and  all  the  accessible  hand-books  of  criticism, 
and  came  shortly  to  consider  himself  fairly  enlisted  in  that 
army  of  bold  men  -who  seek  the  bubble  reputation  at  the  ink- 
stand's mouth. 

Before  he  had  seen  any  service,  or  exposed  himself  in  any 
way,  he  deserted  and  went  over  to  the  ranks  of  the  legal  pro- 
fession. Happening  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Edgecutt 
through  calling  on  him  with  Paul,  he  resorted  much  thereaf- 
ter to  that  gentleman's  office,  and  became,  for  a  short  time, 
greatly  interested  in  his  profession.  His  mental  capacities, 
and  his  qualities  as  a  friend,  made  his  new  acquaintance  take 
much  interest  in  his  plans  and  purposes ;  and  Mr.  Edgecutt 
proved  of  great  service  to  him  in  imparting  some  weight  and 
permanence  to  his  ambition. 

Nevertheless,  Jason's  ideas  of  future  industry  and  self-achiev- 
ed success  were  very  vague.  He  had  yet  to  learn  that  it  was 
not  enough  for  a  man  to  be  "  the  architect  of  his  own  fortunes." 
Jason  drew  the  plans  and  laid  out  the  measurements  often 
enough ;  he  played  the  architect  again  and  again.  But  be- 
fore he  could  move  into  that  edifice  of  personal  position  which 
he  now  occupies,  and  which  Mrs.  Jason  L.  Chesslebury  with 
him  adorns,  he  found  that  he  must  be  not  only  his  own  archi- 
tect but  his  own  carpenter  and  mason  and  his  own  hod-carrier. 

The  country  influences  of  his  previous  education,  undoubt- 
edly will  have  to  bear  the  blame  for  Jason  of  this  strange  and 
almost  vulgar  notion  of  his,  that  he  ought  to  be  doing  some- 
thing for  himself.  It  was  certainly  not  to  be  justly  attributed 


304  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

to  the  atmosphere  of  his  city  life.  Nor  was  he  wholly  re- 
moved from  these  unfortunate,  unfashionable,  and  unsophistic- 
ated rural  influences  when  he  left  Cone  Cut,  summoned  hastily 
by  the  sad  news  of  his  father's  death.  Not  long  after  the 
funeral,  he  wrote  of  his  affliction  to  Salanda,  and  the  letter 
receiving  a  simple  and  straightforward,  but  tender  and  sisterly 
reply,  he  found  a  wholesome  pleasure  in  her  sympathy.  And 
so  it  came  to  pass  that  from  seeking  Salanda's  condolement  he 
asked  her  advice,  and  took  good  counsel  of  her  honest  heart 
in  many  questions,  and  on  many  subjects,  where  he  would  not 
open  his  thoughts  to  other  friends ;  nor  take  advice  if  offered. 
In  fact  he  thought  more  of  Salanda  (in  a  brotherly  way,  of 
course)  than  he  would  have  cared  to  acknowledge,  and  gov- 
erned himself  more  by  her  thoughts  and  wishes,  than  by  those 
of  any  other  person,  unless  it  was  his  sister  Frederica. 

His  mother  was  the  same  dignitary  that  she  had  always 
been ;  and  even  yet  appeared  to  consider  Jason  and  Frederica 
as  "the  children."  Experience  had  not  yet  obliterated  the 
impression,  that  the  sympathy  and  friendship  which  young 
folks  need,  is  just  what  the  nurse  and  nursery-maid  were  paid 
for  furnishing  at  the  proper  time.  She  was  no  more  approach- 
able in  black  than  she  had  been  in  colors ;  and  although  un- 
doubtedly she  had  a  mother's  heart  in  the  place  for  it,  yet  its 
hiding-place  was,  and  had  ever  been  to  the  children's  recollec- 
tion, so  handsomely  concealed  with  silks  and  laces,  that  their 
heads  had  never  been  permitted  to  rest  upon  it,  and  find  that 
it  did  really  beat  in  unison  with  their  own. 

His  elder  sister,  Jason  seldom  saw.  She  had  taken  her 
husband  to  the  South  to  spend  the  winter.  In  this  movement 
Mr.  Sharstock  had  tractably  acquiesced.  For  whatever  else 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  305 

m 

might  be  said  against  him,  he  could  not  be  charged  with  a  dis- 
position to  make  trouble  in  his  family ;  and  it  became  ulti- 
mately the  fundamental  maxim  of  his  matrimonial  philosophy, 
to  let  Mrs.  Sharstock  do  as  she  liked,  and  make  no  objections ; 
for,  as  he  said  to  himself  privately,  after  more  dialogues  than 
one,  "  She  may  quarrel.  It  would  be  a  joke  if  she  did." 

But  his  sister  Frederica,  Jason  found  to  be  a  noble  friend. 
In  point  of  time,  she  was  younger  than  he  by  one  year  and  an 
odd  month  or  so,  but  allowing  for  difference  of  sex,  that  made 
her  perhaps  a  year  older,  in  point  of — well,  in  point  of  a  good 
many  things.  \\ 

Frederica  saw  all  of  Salanda's  letters.  Not  that  there  were 
many  of  them.  On  the  contrary,  not  half  enough.  They 
were  a  most  provokingly  long(  time  in  coming.  When  Jason 
complained  of  this,  Freddie  looked  wise,  and  said  she  didn't 
wonder;  she  thought,  though,  they  would  come  and  go 
quicker  one  of  these  days ;  and  then  Jason  would  ask  inno- 
cently, "  When  r  And  Freddie  would  say,  "  Well,  if  you  can't 
guess,  it  will  be  when  you  put  more  in  yours."  And  then 
Jason  would  protest,  with  earnest  solemnity,  that  he  never 
thought  of  such  a  thing ;  she  was  only  a  friend.  Then  Fred- 
die always  laughed — what  a  sweet,  sisterly,  sarcastic  little 
laugh,  with  dimples  of  kindness  and  affection  playing  all  over 
it,  that  would  have  made  any  body  else  than  Jason  quite  con- 
fused in  mind  to  witness. 

But  when  the  letters  did  come,  were  they  not  good  ones  1 

Did  you  never,  when  passing  the  post-office,  happen  to  see 
Jason  coming  out  with  a  letter,  and  doing  the  very  foolish 
thing  of  opening  it  right  there  in  the  street  to  read  it ;  and, 
as  he  r6ad,  running  against  people,  with  a  bright  smile  of 


306  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

enjoyment  on  his  face,  contrasting  queerly  enough  with  their 
giances  of  indignation  ? 

Did  you  never  see  him  take  it  out  of  his  pocket  in  the  om- 
nibus going  up,  just  partly  out,  to  take  a  look  at  the  super- 
scription, as  if  he  were  carrying  a  document  on  an  errand,  and 
wanted  to  be  sure  he  had  taken  the  right  one?  Or  some- 
times, when  the  passengers  did  not  look  very  inquisitive,  have 
you  not  seen  him  take  it  quite  open,  and  read,  but  with  a 
very  sober  face,  and  stopping  to  look  abstractly  now  and  then, 
pretending  that  it  was  a  terribly  dull,  important,  business  letter. 

But  then  they  were  good  letters,  and  would  bear  reading 
three  times — for  he  always  read  them  at  home  with  Freddie 
leaning  on  his  shoulder  and  looking  over  ;  and  this  made  the 
third  time,  though  he  did  make  as  if  it  was  the  first.  They 
were  good  letters.  There  were  good  honest  truths  in  them, 
and  gentle  good  wishes  which  were  spurs  to  Jason's  better 
nature.  There  was  such  an  instinctive  interest  in  any  of  Ja- 
son's ^purposes,  or  plans,  or  even  half-formed  thoughts  of  use- 
fulness or  self-improvement,  which,  when  he  had  such,  his 
letters  always  disclosed  to  her ;  and  such  an  intuitive  avoid- 
ance and  quiet  disregard  of  frivolousness  and  levity,  that  it 
did  Freddie's  heart  good  to  read  them,  and  she  was  glad  that 
Jason  read  them  so  closely  too. 

Ah  !  those  letters  came  altogether  too  rarely. 

Taking  into  view  these  circumstances,  and  many  more  that 
can  not  be  here  reviewed,  but  which,  by  logical  induction, 
may  be  readily  supplied,  it  was  natural  enough — at  least  so 
Freddie  thought — that  Jason  should  conclude  to  spend  the 
summer  of  1852  in  Cone  Cut,  instead  of  dividing  it  with  his 
mother  between  Saratoga  and  Newport. 


CONi]     CUT     CO  UN  BUS.  307 

Jason  was  warmly  greeted  by  all  his  friends  in  Cone  Cut. 
This,  indeed,  was  nearly  all  the  town ;  for  he  knew  every  body 
and  every  body  knew  him,  from  Elder  Graynes  down  to  Cap- 
tain May  feme's  dog.  And  they  were  all  glad  to  see  him. 

Except  perhaps  Salanda  ? 

No !  she  was  as  cordial  in  her  welcome  as  ever.  Still  in 
some  way  she  did  not  seem  quite  as  Jason  expected.  Not  ex- 
actly indifferent.  No.  Not  at  all  indifferent ;  not  at  all ;  but 
in  the  least  possible  degree  distant.  No,  no ;  not  in  the 
slightest  degree  distant ;  but  perhaps  somewhat  reserved. 
Not  really  reserved,  though ;  but  in  some  way  changed. 
Hardly,  though,  changed  ;  because  she  certainly  was  just  the 
same  as  ever ;  but  nevertheless  that  was  not  exactly  what 
Jason  seemed  to  have  expected ;  though  he  could  not  for  the 
life  of  him  say  what  was  wanting. 

It  is  wonderful  what  a  number  of  beauiiful  rides  there  were  in 
the  region  of  Cone  Cut  Corners.  Not  those  macadamized  ave- 
nues, those  everlastingly  unfinished  roads,  that  are  never  done 
until  they  are  worn  out ;  but  real  country  roads,  paved  only  by 
Nature,  graded  only  here  and  there  in  steep  places  by  freshets, 
and  unswept  save  now  and  then  by  the  winds ;  true  country 
roads  among  the  mountains,  through  forests,  over  hills,  down 
ravines ;  genuine  country  roads  with  big  rocks  in  the  middle 
occasionally,  to  give  scope  to  the  skill  of  amateur  drivers ;  with 
gridirons  made  of  logs,  in  marshy  places,  to  give  variety  to  the 
motion  of  the  wagon ;  with,  once  in  a  great  while,  streams  to 
ford,  in  broad,  shallow  places,  to  test  the  courage  and  the  con- 
fidence of  a  timid  companion.  Splendid  roads  these,  for  a  brisk 
little  horse  and  a  light  strong  wagon  and  two  good  friends,  en- 
joying the  air  and  the  prospect  together ; — nothing  more ! 


308  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

It  is  a  little  remarkable  too,  how  many  pleasant  walks  there 
are  in  the  vicinity  of  the  village.  There  was  the  way  to  Cap- 
tain Mayferrie's,  up  the  north  hill ;  a  noble  walk  this,  early  of 
a  summer  morning,  giving  a  view  of  sunrise  up  there  full 
three  minutes  before  any  body  down  in  the  village  caught  it. 
Then  there  was  Cartrock's  Hill.  That  was  the  place  for  box- 
berries  and  sunsets.  Down  the  pond  there  was  a  delightful 
wild  old  path  leading  through  all  sorts  of  wildernesses  into  a 
perfect  Garden  of  Eden  of  raspberry-bushes.  Then  at  the  head 
of  the  pond  there  were  the  rockmaple  woods,  where  the  forest 
that  belonged  on  the  mountain  had  ventured  down  in  one 
corner  into  the  valley,  and  made  a  coiony  along  the  brook. 
This  was  the  spot  which  Salanda's  taste,  approved  by  the  as- 
sent of  all  the  village,  had  selected  for  a  picnic  ground. 

But  of  all  the  pleasant  walks  in  the  whole  neighborhood  there 
was  none  more  pleasant  than  the  old  valley  road  ;  at  least  so 
Jason  thought,  and  perhaps  Salanda  thought  so  too.  This  was 
an  old  road,  and  now  almost  deserted,  which  formerly  had  been 
the  thoroughfare  from  Cone  Cut  Corners  down  the  valley,  to 
the  mills  at  the  other  end  of  the  pond  in  the  next  town. 
Lately  a  new  road  had  been  cut  through  the  woods,  along  the 
shore  of  the  pond,  and  this  being  level  and  shorter,  soon  at- 
tracted all  the  travel  and  left  the  old  valley  road  high  and  dry 
among  the  hills.  This  deserted  thoroughfare  was  now  only 
used  by  the  farmers  who  lived  upon  it.  It  was  a  capital  road 
for  a  walk,  as  Jason  said  to  himself,  because,  although  there 
was  enough  publicity  in  it  to  give  it  propriety,  there  was  yet 
a  seclusion  which  made  it  agreeable.  Salanda  acknowledged 
that  she  liked  it,  because,  she  said,  there  was  no  dust,  and 
no  being  turned  out  of  the  road  every  little  while  by  teams. 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.       ,  309 

It  was  a  pleasant  road  too.  Some  climbing,  but  many  capital 
resting-places,  and  a  noble  prospect.  Some  woods  with  cool 
and  somber  shadows  and  some  orchards  (free  for  Jason)  on 
the  hill,  with  early  apples  of  that  size  and  rosiness  and  juicy 
mellowness  that  prevented  their  ever  getting  to  market.  The 
roadway  itself,  was  overgrown  with  grass  between  the  wheel- 
tracks,  which  made  it  look  like  a -winding  green  railroad  Avith 
soft  cushions  of  sod  for  rails.  So  it  was  a  very  pleasantly  car- 
peted place  for  pedestrians. 

One  evening  toward  the  end  of  August,  Jason  and  Salanda 
were  coming  slowly  along  this  road,  on  their  return  from  a 
walk. 

The  sun,  that  most  inexorable  of  all  creditors,  had  been 
around,  during  the  day,  dunning  all  the  earth  to  pay  up 
an  installment  on  the  debt  of  rain  lately  incurred,  and  was 
now  good-humoredly  going  home  in  the  midst  of  a  rare  glory. 
He  had  been  very  successful  in  his  day's  tour,  and  had  raised 
a  large  amount,  which  was  heaped  up  about  him  in  golden 
piles,  and,  amid  all  this  immeasurable  wealth,  he  was  bowing 
himself  slowly  below  the  horizon. 

Salanda  and  Jason,  from  turning  back  to  see  the  sunset, 
moved  slowly  on  along  the  green  railroad  toward  home. 

What  there  might  be  in  the  sight  to  make  Jason  look  very 
steadily  on  the  ground,  and  Salanda  look  very  straightforward 
into  the  darkening  distance,  and  both  to  walk  on  in  the  same 
silence  in  which  they  had  watched  the  setting  of  the  sun,  is 
not  easy  to  say.  But  as  they  lingered  slowly  along  the  way, 
Jason  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  grassy  track,  as  if  intent 
on  search  for  something  that  he  scarcely  hoped  to  find ; 
white  Salanda,  her  broad  straw-hat  shading  and  darkening 


310  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

the  soberness  of  her  beautiful  face,  looked  still  steadily  before 
her,  toward  the  eastern  hills  across  the  valley. 

At  last  Salanda  spoke. 

"No,"  said  she,  in  a  very  gentle  tone,  recurring  to  what- 
ever may  have  gone  before  in  the  conversation — "  no,  Jason,  I 
am  afraid  you  will  not  be  happy  with  me, — or  without.  I  don't 
think  you  're  quite  safe  where  you  stand.  No  love  of  mi  no 
can  make  you  safe,  I  fear." 

"  But,  Salanda,  you  don't  understand  me." 

"  I  think  I  do,"  said  she.  "  You  think  there  's  no  danger. 
You  dislike  dissipation,  as  you  call  it,  and  think  you  never 
can  be  tempted  jnto  it.  But  you  enjoy  occasionally  a  wine- 
drinking  frolic  ;  and  when  it  is  over,  you  laugh,  and  call  it  a 
spree.  It  may  not  be  wrong,  but  I  am  sure  it  is  not  safe." 

Jason  was  silent. 

"  Perhaps  you  think  it 's  only  the  poor  who  are  in  danger 
from  intemperance.  Forgive  me,  Jason,  if  I  say — if  I  even 
thiuk — any  thing  I  ought  not ;  but  it  seems  to  me,  that  of 
all  persons,  those  who  are  well  off  and  live  in  ease  are  the 
most  in  danger.  Those  who  use  the  temptation  as  a  luxury 
will  be  most  prone,  and  the  highest  up  have  the  furthest  to  fall. 

"  You  know  best,"  she  continued,  "  if  you  will  judge  un- 
prejudiced. And  don't  you  think  so  ?  I  verily  believe  that 
there  are  more  mothers  made  wretched  by  the  ruin  of  their 
sons  among  the  rich,  than  among  the  poor.  Oh,  do  !  Jason, 
promise  me,  as  you  would  vour  sister,  that  you  will  not  go  on 
so  any  more.  I  can  not  say  how  much  happiness  your — 
your — confidence  has  given  me.  You  have  been  a  brother  to 
me,  Jason,  though  I  am  alone.  I  am  very  grateful.  But  I 
can  not  say  yes." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  311 

"  Salanda,"  Jason  commenced. 

"  Don't  ask  me  more,"  she  said,  putting  both  hands  to  her 
face,  to  stifle  a  sob  and  conceal  a  tear. 

"  My  dear  Salanda,"  returned  Jason,  tenderly  disregarding 
the  remonstrance.  "  Is  that  all  ?" 

"  It  is  enough,"  said  she,  drying  her  eyes  resolutely,  and 
pulling  forward  the  straw-hat,  for  they  were  now  entering  the 
village.  "  It  is  enough." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jason,  "  but  if  I  promise." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  very  glad,"  said  she,  joyfully  glancing  at 
him. 

"  A.nd  if  I  do,  what — what — will  you  say  then  ?" 

Salanda  looked  serious  again,  and  was  silent.  After  a 
moment,  she  spoke. 

"It  must  not  be  a  bargain.  It  ought  to  be  a  principle. 
Then  you  will  not  forget  it,  nor  be  tired  of  it.  I  don't 
think,  Jason,  it  ought  to  be  a  bargain." 

Jason  was  silent. 

"  It  is,"  said  she,  "  because  you  have  been  so  much  my 
friend  that  I  have  spoken  so  plainly." 

"  Well !"  said  Jason.  But  he  did  not  seem  quite  satisfied 
that  it  was  well. 

"  When  they  reached  Aunt  Provy's  gate,  Jason  stood  lean- 
ing over  it  a  little  while,  prolonging  the  conversation. 

"  From  my  heart  I  thank  you,"  said  he,  commencing  again 
after  Salanda  thought  he  had  said  all  that  he  would,  "  I  thank 
you  for  all  your  sisterly  good  influence  and  kindness.  I  hope 
you  will  know  one  day  how  much  I  owe  you.  I  sometimes 
wonder  what  I  might  have  become  without  your  friendship." 

Salanda's  tears  made  answer  for  her. 


312  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  I  shall  go  back  to  New  York,  to-morrow." 

"  Why,  Jason !"  she  exclaimed. 

"Yes,"  returned  he,  "to-morrow.  I  shall  write  to  you 
from  there.  Until  then  I  promise  you  Salanda,  truly — no — 
I  'd  better  not  make  any  promises." 

"  Good-night,  Salanda." 

"  Good-by,  Jason." 

Salanda  from  the  gate  watched  Jason  going  up  the  hill  to- 
ward Elder  Graynes',  until  what  with  the  distance  and  what 
with  her  tears,  he  disappeared  from  her  sight.  Then  turning 
slowly  from  the  gate  she  entered  the  house,  and  with  scarcely 
a  word  to  Aunt  Provy,  went  up  to  her  room. 

The  little  window  of  Salanda's  room  looked  westward.  A 
faint  tinge  of  twilight  not  altogether  yet  gone  out,  spread  over 
that  part  of  the  sky ;  and  as  Salanda  sat  with  her  arm  on  the 
window-sill,  she  watched  through  tearful  eyes  the  increasing 
darkness.  Then  on  the  western  hills  the  landscape  was  grow- 
ing confused.  Fields  and  forests  were  losing  their  identity 
and  going  into  partnership  in  the  gloom ;  and  the  houses  along 
the  old  valley  road,  which  in  daylight  had  stood  out  in  white 
or  sober  brown  against  the  surrounding  foliage,  now  faded  out 
of  sight,  and  were  recognizable  only  where,  in  the  sitting-room 
within,  the  evening  firelight  or  candles,  made  signal  of  their 
position. 

But  Salanda's  thoughts  did  not  linger  here. 

Further  up  the  hill,  then,  on  the  brow. 

There  the  bold  ridge  stood  up  high  and  clear,  making  itself 
look  flat  against  the  sky ;  and  the  sky  came  down  and  looked 
as  if  it  stood  flat  against  the  hill  upon  the  other  side ;  and  the 
apple-trees  in  the  orchard  up  there,  which  had  been  all  day  in 


COM*    OUT    CORNERS,  313 

a  crowd  huddled  together  in  confusion,  now  separated  and 
stood  out  distinct  to  view,  and  the  fading  light  shone  between 
their  stems  and  through  their  foliage. 

But  Salanda's  thoughts  did  not  linger  here. 

Further  on,  over  the  hill,  through  the  trees,  into  the  sky, 
she  looked ;  and  so  she  sat.  Until  Darkness,  whose  forces  had 
already  conquered  and  invested  the  valley,  gained  full  posses- 
sion of  the  horizon,  and  there  built  an  embankment  of  cloud 
along  the  ridge,  and  to  that  fortification  rallying  forces,  again 
charged,  thence  down  the  hill,  upon  the  retreating  enemy. 

Salanda  closed  the  window,  dried  her  eyes,  h't  a  lamp, 
slightly  arranged  her  curling  hair  at  that  littlest  of  all  glasses 
which  stood  over  her  bureau,  and  then  sat  down  at  her  table. 
It  was  a  round  pine  table  of  moderate  dimensions.  A  plain 
Avhite  cloth,  full  and  flowing,  gave  it  a  neat  and  pleasant 
look.  Behind  it,  back  against  the  wall,  hung  her  bookcase, 
which  consisted  of  three  shelves  of  yellow  pine,  neatly  made 
by  Culick — the  noble  fellow ;  he  was  always  doing  something 
for  her — and  varnished  by  him  until  it  would  make  you  be- 
lieve yellow  pine  to  be  the  most  beautiful  of  all  woods. 

Before  her  upon  the  table  lay  her  writing-desk..  She 
opened  it  with  a  key,  lifted  an  inner  lid,  and  took  out  of  it  a 
morocco-covered  book.  It  opened  almost  of  its  own  accord 
toward  the  latter  part ;  and  she  proceeded  to  write  for  some 
time  upon  its  pages. 

The  sentiments  which  she  thus  confided  to  her  Journal  can 
not  properly  be  laid  open  here.  Whether  they  were  reflec- 
tions upon  the  themes  of  the  evening's  conversation  with 
Jason,  or  whether  they  were  anticipations  of  the  time,  now 
near  at  hand,  when  she  was  to  leave  her  home  for  strange  ex- 
14 


314 


CONK     CUT     COKXKRS. 


periences  abroad,  or  whether  other  and  even  deeper  thoughts 
were  hers,  can  not  well  be  settled  here.  Whatever  those  sen- 
timents may  have  been,  they  are  not  to  be  spread  before  the 
world.  They  were  in  Iced  with  perfect  propriety  intrusted  to 
her  Journal,  that  most  secure  strong-box  for  the  weaknesses 
of  young  ladies.  There  they  stand  guarded  from  intrusive 
eyes  by  the  invariable  title-page,  bearing  the  talismanic,  or  to 
speak  more  properly,  taliswomanic  inscription  : 
•  •  .  *  J 

"PRIVATE.      ..-<*« 

"•To  be  burned  unopened  in  case  I  should  be  taken  away." 

Tliis  inscription  would,  as  Salanda  (in  common  with  other 
young  ladies)  supposed,  completely  satiate  the  spirit  of  inves- 
tigation in  the  most  curious  stranger,  and  raise  up  an  insur- 
mountable barrier  of  high  conscientious  scruple  in  .the  heart 
of  aa  heir,  executor,  or  administrator,  however  devoid  of 
moral  principle. 

Confiding  in  the  sacred  character  of  these  protecting 
words,  Salanda  closed  her  Journal  and  locked  her  desk,  put 
on  Jier  hat  and  a  shawl,  and  went  down  stairs  again. 

"  Aunt  Provy,"  said  she,  looking  in  at  the  kitchen,  "  I  'in 
going  out  to  take  a  walk.'' 

"  La,  child  !  you  Avon't  do  any  such  thing,"  predicted  Aunt 
Provy,  confidently. 

"  It 's  such  ajbeautiful  night,  and  the  moon's  rising.  I'll 
not  be  long,"  replied  Salanda. 

So  saying  she  went  out,  and  from  the  gate  directed  her 
steps  up  the  hill. 


XXV. 

AUGUST,   18S2. 


THE  moon,  now  rising  high  in  the  East,  brought  light  and 
cheerfulness  upon  the  somber  landscape  again.  So  that  Dark- 
ness, -whose  short  triumph  Salanda  had  witnessed  from  the 
window,  was,  in  the  very  midst  of  his  victory,  suddenly  fallen 
upon  in  the.  rear,  by  this  ally  of  Light,  who  had  been  coming 
up  to  the  succor  from  an  ambuscade  behind  the  mountains. 
Between  the  two  enemies  Darkness  found  close  fighting,  and 
retreated,  and  fell  into  concealed  places,  and  hid  behind  any 
thing  which  would  cast  a  shadow  of  safety.  Light  thus 
gained  a  partial  possession  of  the  field  again. 


316  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

| 

Next  the  church,  down  the  slope,  shaded  by  grand  old 
elms,  was  the  little  lot  of  ground  sacred  to  the  memory  of  the 
Cone  Cut  dead.  And  here  the  Darkness  found  its  best  safety 
from  the  rnoon,  concealing  itself  by  the  overshadowing  trees, 
and  hiding  among  the  gravestones. 

Salanda  stopped  a  moment  at  the  gate.  It  was  a  plain 
white  gateway,  with  a  little  archway  over  it,  which  bore  the 
inscription,  "  The  wages  of  sin  is  death."  It  was  scarcely  a 
fashionable  sentiment,  according  to  the  custom  of  cemetery 
inscriptions,  and  when  Elder  Graynes  had  caused  it  to  be 
placed  there,  the  people  of  the  town  murmured  somewhat — 
for  they  were  accustomed  to  more  comfortable  scriptures — 
and  said  it  was  not  the  thing;  and  strangers  riding  by,  stopped 
in  their  chaises  a  moment  to  look,  and  said  how  odd  ;  and,  in 
short,  mortals  generally  disliking  the  anticipation  of  being 
paid  off  in  that  coin,  were  in  no  hurry  for  pay-clay,  and 
thought  that  some  other  inscription  would  have  been  much 
more  tasteful  and  appropriate. 

Salanda  opened  the  gate  and  went  in.  She  shut  it  gently 
after  her,  as  if  afraid  to  disturb  the  sleepers  whose  chamber 
she  was  entering.  Notwithstanding  all  her  caution,  however, 
she  awoke  all  the  attention  of  the  place.  Grim  old  grave- 
stones stared  at  her  in  surprise.  The  trees  bent  their  heads 
together  and  whispered  to  each  other  their  wonder  who  it  was 
that  dared  encroach  upon  these  grounds  at  such  a  time  of 
night.  The  evening  breeze,  which  had  almost  fallen  asleep 
up  among  the  branches,  awoke  again,  and  came  down  to  meet 
her;  while  the  moon,  wondering  whither  she  was  going, 
struggled  through  the  foliage  here  and  there  to  watch  her 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  31*7 

The  familiar  pathway  brought  her  soon  to  the  white  grave- 
stone, with  the  simple  inscription.  The  grave  stood  there  like 
a  sphinx  ;  and  a  strange  riddle  it  was — when  most  thought  of, 
least  understood.  Strange  it  seemed  always  to  Salanda,  yet 
never  more  inexplicable  than  to-night. 

Here  Salanda  stopped  and  sat  down  upon  the  grass,  leaning 
her  head  upon  the  stone.  From  here,  through  the  trees  she 
could  see  the  valley  ;  and  in  its  center  the  pond  lay  gleaming 
in  the  moonlight.  Salanda  faintly  smiled  as  it  brought  to 
mind  the  fancy  which  her  childhood  had  associated  with  the 
scene,  that  it  was  like  an  opening  in  the  earth  where  she 
could  look  through  and  see  the  other  sky. 

Just  beyond  her,  up  the  hill,  was  the  church,  facing  down 
the  valley ;  and  its  two  front  windows  aside  the  steeple,  looked 
like  two  dark  eyes  sleeplessly  watching  the  village.  A  little 
further  on  stood  the  parsonage.  It  was  mostly  hidden  by  the 
church  and  in  the  trees.  But  one  window  she  could  see. 
She  well  knew  whose  room  that  was.  She  even  thought  that 
she  could  see  his  form  against  the  curtain. 

"  Oh,  mother  !"  she  cried,  "  how  much  I  need  your  counsel, 
your  sympathy !  Oh,  how  much  !  Oh,  that  you  could  ad- 
vise me.  I  could  tell  you  all.  I  can  not  talk  of  him  to , 

no,  I  can  not.  Oh,  mother,  why  should  I  be  bereaved  of  you. 
Of  your  memory,  and  perhaps  your  name.  I  could  better 
bear  to  be  an  orphan  if  I  but  knew  how  and  why  it  was." 

The  evening  breeze  that  had  gone  back  to  its  cradle  in  the 
boughs  above  was  not  more  restless,  uncertain,  aimless,  than 
Salanda's  thoughts.  She  turned  and  leaned  her  forehead  upon 
the  cool  stone,  and  the  little  violet  leaves  and  stems  of  grass 
at  its  foot,  bowed  sympathetically  as  her  tears  fell  upon  them. 


318  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Some  distant  sound  recalled  her  attention.  She  listened 
-with  head  erect.  Nothing. 

She  looked  to  the  window  again. 

"  Oh,  if  he  only  knew  how  much  I  love  him  !  Was  I  not 
wrong  ?  Or  must  I  lose  him  f ' 

The  form  against  the  window  rose,  and  disappeared. 
Salanda  had  not  even  a  shadow's  company  now. 

"  Still,  it  is  better  to  lose  him  now ;  be  parted  from  him  and 
forgotten,  than  to  be  his,  and  then  to  lose  him  slowly  day  by 
day.  That  is  the  bitterest  bereavement  which  grows  slowly 
on  the  heart.  I  can  bear  his  farewell  now.  I  could  not  bear 
forgetfulness  and  his  slow  ruin,  then — it  would  be  better  to 
lose  him  now,  if  he  loves  such  liberty  more  than  me. 

"  Oh !  if  he  should — but  I  have  seen  too  many  suffer 
so  already.  No,  I  must  be  firm.  Perhaps  my  words  may 
save  him.  I  might  persuade  him  to  promise  me.  But  I  don't 
want  him  to  promise  me.  That  were  an  idle  pledge.  It 
ought  to  be  his — " 

Hark! 

Salanda  crouches  behind  the  gravestone.  There  at  the 
gate,  in  the  moonlight,  peering  through  the  archway  into  the 
darkness  around  Salanda, — who  is  it  ?  As  Salanda  hides 
behind  the  stone,  he  shakes  his  fist,  and  mutters  something 
which  she  can  not  hear.  Then-the  little  gate  creaks  upon  its 
hinges,  and  a  shadow  passes  up  the  walk. 

There  is  but  an  instant  for  thought.  If  she  attempts  to 
leave  the  place  she  is  seen.  She  steps  behind  the  trunk  of  a 
neighboring  tree.  The  darkness  favors  her.  The  evening 
breeze  draws  a  white  vail  of  cloud  over  the  face  of  the 
inquisitive  moon,  and  cuts  off  her  attention  from  Salanda. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  319 

The  intruder  comes  slowly  up  the  path.  He  walks 
toward  Salanda,  It  is  Mr.  Mayferrie !  Why  he  is  here, 
to-night,  Salanda  trembling,  wonders;  and  finds  conjectured 
answers  in  the  motives  of  her  own  presence,  which  make  her 
tremble  all  the  more.  The  Captain  comes  to  the  spot  that 
she  had  left.  He  leans  heavily  against  a  young  tree,  which 
sways  under  the  burden,  and  can  scarcely  support  him. 

«  Oho !"  sighs  he. 

The  evening  breeze  catches  up  the  sound,  and  mocks,  and 
echoes  it  in  every  tree-top. 

"  I  would  to  God,  Charlotte,  that  I  were  asleep  here  with 
you." 

Salanda  conjectures  no  further.     She  knows  it  now, 

"  Quiet  company  you  have." 

He  looks  about  upon  the  little  army  of  gravestones  that 
stand  in  rank  and  file,  as  if  they  had  been  soldiers  encamped, 
and  petrified  in  their  rest. 

"  This  accursed  life  ;  it 's  death  to  me.  It  was  to  you.  It 
will  be  to  me.  I  'm  ruined  now,  as  you  were.  It 's  no  use 
disguising  it  It 's  no  use  resisting  it.  It 's  my  fate,  as  'twas 
yours. 

"  I  disowned  you  once,  I  could  disown  myself.  My 
shame  is  worse  than  yours.  Oh,  Charlotte  !  to  know  what  I 
am,  and  what  you  are.  And  to  have  such  a  daughter ;  a 
stranger,  yet  my  own.  To  know  she's  mine,  to  see  her, 
to  talk  with  her,  to  meet  her  every  dav,  to  see  her  gradually 
fearing  to  discover  who  I  am,  to  love  her,  as  heaven  knows  I 
love  her ;  and  then  to  be  ashamed  and  afraid  in  her  presence. 
Oh,  Charlotte!  Charlotte! 

"  "Well,  she  's  going  soon.     To  live  much  longer  near  her 


320  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

would  be  to  claim  her.  She  half  guesses  me  now.  I  can 
bring  her  nothing  but  a  disgraced  name." 

Salanda,  shivering  (for  it  grows  chilly,  she  thinks),  leans  for 
support  upon  the  nearest  stone.  She  forms  a  purpose,  but 
hesitates  to  execute  it. 

"  And  when  she  's  once  away,  the  sooner  I  am  dead  the 
better.  It 's  no  use  to  fight  against  it.  God  grant  that  she 
may  follow  better  examples.  No,  she  must  not  know  of  me ; 
nor  of  her  mother.  And  when  she  's  once  away,  I  don't  care 
how  soon  I  'm  gone. 

"  Keep  off !  be  you  angel,  ghost,  or  devil,  keep  off, 
I  say !" 

The  Captain  springs  to  his  feet,  and  throws  up  his  arms  to 
ward  off  the  apparition. 

"  Father !" 

There  is  a  moment's  silence. 

"  Dear,  dear  father  !" 


XXVI. 

OCTOBER,   1852. 


THAT  imperti- 
nent little  fellow 
the  sunshine,  who 
can  never  be  per- 
suaded to  confine 
himself  steadily 

to  his  proper  business  of  taking  daguerreotypes,  but  goes  roam- 
ing over  the  world,  peering  in  where  he  has  no  manner  of 
concern  to  look — now  stealing  the  colors  from  the  windoAv- 
curtain — now  trespassing  upon  the  new  parlor  carpet — now 
climbing  stealthily  upon  the  baby's  face,  who  slumbers  in 
the  cradle,  and  sitting  there  so  heavily  as  to  wake  the  little 
sleeper — now  flashing  from  some  mischievously  slanted  mirror 
full  in  the  face  of  a  patient  student  across  the  way — behaved 


322  CONE     CUT    CORNEBS. 

in  an  especially  impudent  and  indeed  dishonest  manner  one 
morning,  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Mirrium,  in  Division- 
street,  in  the  city  of  New  York.  For  discovering  that  the 
front  room  on  the  first  floor  of  this  house  was  "  To  Let,"  as 
was  confidentially  announced  by  a  manuscript  in  letters  orig- 
inally very  small  and  crabbed,  and  now  nearly  smeared  out 
by  the  rain,  which  manuscript  was  wafered  to  the  door-post ; 
the  little  culprit  clambered  up  over  the  iron  railing,  thence 
got  upon  the  window-sill,  and  then  passing  quietly  through 
the  half-opened  window,  got  down  upon  the  floor.  Nor  was 
this  the  sum  of  his  transgression,  but  the  mere  commencement 
rather.  For  after  rolling  himself  about  upon  the  carpet,  and 
playing  milky-way  with  the  dust  which  had  been  quietly 
floating  in  the  air,  he  climbed  upon  the  bed,  and  there 
stretched  himself  out  upon  the  counterpane  to  take  a  nap. 
In  this  gross  trespass  he  was  still  engaged,  when  Mrs.  Mir- 
rium, the  true  and  lawful  ruler  of  the  domain,  turned  the 
key  in  the  door,  and  entered  the  apartment. 

"  La,  sakes !"  she  exclaimed.  "  Here 's  the  sun  in  again. 
There  won't  be  a  color  left  iii  the  carpet,  next  thing." 

So  saying,  the  prudent  housekeeper  shut  the  blinds  of  one 
window,  and  commenced  to  do  the  same  at  the  other.  Now 
just  as  she  drew  them  to,  so  that  the  invader  seeing  his  re- 
treat about  to  be  cut  off,  leaped  suddenly  out  at  the  last  closing 
blind,  our  old  friend  Paul,  now  no  longer  simply  Paul,  but 
Mr.  Paul  Rundle,  paused  as  he  was  about  to  pass  the  house, 
attracted  by  the  handbill. 

Mrs.  Mirrium  eyed  him  through  the  blind,  closely,  but  hos- 
pitably. 

Paul  surveyed  the  exterior  of  the  house.     It  was  somewhat 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  323 

incongruously  decorated.  There  was  a  show-case  upon  the 
door-step,  filled  with  garments  mysterious  to  Paul,  upon  the 
bottom  of  which — the  show-case,  not  the  garments — was  a 
sign  announcing  that  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Drigg  were  engaged  in 
the  importation  and  manufacture  of  certain  articles  of  ladies' 
wear,  after  the  newest  French  styles  and  patterns ;  and  that 
ladies  would  be  confidentially  attended  by  Mrs.  Drigg.  Then 
there  was  the  further  sign,  a  tin  sign  this,  and  tacked  upon 
the  door-post,  intimating  that  the  house  was  also  the  resi- 
dence, or  it  might  be  only  the  office,  of  "  The  Copper  Man," 
whoever  he  might  be,  and  that  one  Constantino  Feltcher  was 
his  secretary.  Then  there  was  the  further  announcement, 
painted  upon  a  goodly  board  above  the  window,  to  the  effect 
that  Mrs.  Mirrium  kept  a  "  Gentlemen's  Furnishing  Store." 
Moreover  there  was  a  most  elaborate  manuscript,  finished  off 
with  intricate  flourishes,  and  pen  and  ink  sketches  of  winged 
horses,  a  cupid  aud  similar  devices,  and  framed  in  a  gilt 
frame,  by  which  public  attention  was  called  to  the  merits  of 
Professor  Tappum's  Institution  for  the  Education  of  Boys  in 
Writing  and  Commercial  Arithmetic.  Also  an  imitation- 
silver  door-plate  suggested  the  existence  of  an  II.  Minium, 
without  revealing  either  title  or  occupation  of  that  individual. 
Finally,  there  hung  upon  the  left  hand  door-post  the  manu- 
script placard  which  Paul  had  noticed. 

Fiuding  the  placard  illegible  from  the  sidewalk,  he  ascend- 
ed the  steps,  to  get  a  nearer  view. 

Mrs.  Mirrium  wiped  off  the  dust  that  hail  accumulated  upon 
the  face  of  the  looking-glass,  and  pushed  the  dressing-table 
back  snug  against  the  wall. 

"  To  Let,"  said  Paul,  reading  to  himself,  and   shifting  his 


324  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

little  carpet-bag  from  the  right  hand  to  the  left ;  "  A  front 
parlor,  furnished,  -with  breakfast  and  tea  to  a  single  gentle- 
man, with  pantries." 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  he,  "  whether  these  houses  that  all 
have  such  a  decided  preference  for  single  gentlemen,  have  n't 
got  a  daughter  or  two  a  piece.  Perhaps  a  man  might  many 
after  he  took  the  rooms."  And  he  turned  to  step  down 
again,  yet  hesitated;  turned  to  look  at  the  hand-bill  once 
more  ;  considered  a  moment. 

"  I  might  as  well  inquire,"  said  he,  thoughtfully  reaching 
toward  the  bell-handle. 

Mrs.  Minium  arranged  in  battle  array  the  four  chairs  with 
which  the  room  was  tenanted,  and  smoothed  out  the  corner  of 
the  rug  with  her  toe. 

The  bell  rang. 

Mrs.  Mirriirai,  standing  before  the  glass,  ruffled  her  feathers 
and  smoothed  them  down  again,  and  was  thus  just  ready  to 
sally  forth  in  smiling  answer  to  Paul's  inquiry,  addressed  to 
the  servant, — Could  he  see  some  one  about  the  front  parlor. 

"  The  front  parlor,  sir  ?"  responded  Mrs.  Minium,  "  certain- 
ly. Walk  in,  sir." 

So  saying,  Mrs.  Mirrium  ushered  Paul  into  the  very  front 
parlor  itself. 

"  This  is  the  room,  sir ;"  she  continued. 

"  And  a  very  pleasant  room  it  is,"  responded  Paul,  taking 
a  concise  inventory  of  the  furniture  with  his  left  eye. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Mirrium,  "  that 's  what  all  the  gen- 
tlemen I  've  had  always  says.  The  very  last  gentleman  used 
to  say,  the  last  that  ever  I  had  in  this  room,  he  was  a 
French  gentleman,  and  salesman  in  Moneypennv's  great  fancy 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  325 

store,  name  of  Monarquey  ;  (Mrs.  Minium  improved  upon  the 
French  pronunciation  of  this  name,  for  she  pronounced  as 
Monarquey  what  the  gentleman  referred  to  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  spell  Monarque ;)  a  very  nice  gentleman  he  was  too ; 
one  of  the  very  nicest  gentlemen  I  ever  had ;  perhaps  you 
knew  him." 

Paul  signified  that  he  was  not  acquainted  with  the  gentle- 
man in  question. 

"Oh,  he  was  a  splendid  gentleman,"  continued  Mrs.  Mir- 
rium,  "  always  paid  me  every  Saturday  night,  regular,  except 
when  he  took  too  much  wine  for  dinner,  and  came  home, — 
you  know — " 

Here  Mrs.  Minium  paused  in  her  account  of  the  splendor 
of  Mr.  Monarque's  character,  intending  apparently  to  explain 
her  meaning  by  a  smile  and  a  wink ;  but  observing  that  Paul 
looked  grave,  and  was  not  inclined  to  take  a  humorsome  view 
of  the  French  lodger's  peculiarities,  she  frustrated  that  inten- 
tion, and  feigning  to  remove  from  her  eyelid  some  trouble- 
some mote,  continued. 

"  It 's  a  dreadful  habit,  I  know,"  said  she,  "  when  gentlemen 
will  take  so  much  wine  that  they  can't  conduct  themselves, 
but  I  suppose  these  French  gentlemen  want  something  to  re- 
mind them  of  home  ;  at  any  rate,  Mr.  Monarquey  always  paid 
me  Saturday  night  if  he  had  his  proper  senses  about  him,  and 
if  he  did  n't,  he  used  to  be  so  sorry  the  next  day,  and  stand 
out  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  of  a  Sunday  noon  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves, and  with  a  wet  towel  round  his  head,  and  his  little 
red  velvet  smoking-cap  on  the  top  of  that,  calling  at  the  top 
of  his  voice  for  me  to  come  down  and  take  his  money ; — I  de- 
clare I  used  to  laugh  so  when  I  got  up  stairs,  you  can't  think/' 


326  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Here  Mrs.  Mirrium,  having  entirely  lost  sight  of  that  com- 
mendatory expression  regarding  the  apartment,  which  it  is 
probable  that  at  the  outset  she  intended  to  quote  from  Mr. 
Monarque,  dusted  off  the  top  of  the  bureau  with  her  handker- 
chief; laughing  heartily,  meanwhile,  at  the  reminiscence  of  her 
favorite  lodger. 

"  You  have  other  boarders,  now,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Paul,  in- 
quiringly. 

"  No  boarders,"  said  Mrs.  Minium,  "  only  lodgers.  I  let 
the  rooms,  but  don't  give  any  board." 

"  Ah ;"  said  Paul.  It  had  been  a  favorite  idea  of  his  to 
take  a  room,  and  find  his  meals  here  and  there  through  the 
city,  wherever  he  pleased. 

"  There  's  the  Doctor  on  the  second  floor,"  continued  Mrs. 
Minium,  "they  have  all  that  floor — three  rooms — and  up 
stairs,  we  have  that  story ;  and  the  attics, — there  's  Mr. 
Feltcher  and  his  Copper  Man,  and  there  's  Mr.  Sylvanus,  and 
the  two  Clutters." 

"And  the  back  parlor,"  inquired  Paul,  pointing  to  the  fold- 
ing-doors which  divided  that  apartment  from  the  front ; 
"  how  is  that  occupied  ?" 

"  Oh,  that 's  Professor  Tappum's  school.  He  's  only  here  day 
times,  about  two  hours.  His  boys  are  very  quiet,  they  won't  dis- 
turb you,  they  don't  make  half  the  noise  of  the  Copper  Man." 

"  Who  is  the  Copper  Man  ?"  inquired  Paul,  "  I  saw  his  sign 
up,  but  who  is  he  ?" 

"  La,  it 's  a  Society — the  Society  of  the  Copper  Man.  Mr. 
Feltcher 's  secretary.  They  meet  here  once  a  month.  I  'm 
sure  I  don't  know  what  they  do,  but  they  make  a  dreadful 
noise  sometimes." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  327 

"  What  is  the  object  of  the  Society  ?"  inquired  Paul,  not 
feeling  attracted  by  this  account. 

"  Oh,  it 's  a  secret  Society  you  know.  Bless  you  /  don't 
know  nor  I  don't  want  to.  They  would  n't  tell  me.  I  Ve 
tried  every  way  I  could  think  of  to  make  Mr.  Feltcher  tell 
me,  but  I  can't  find  out.  But  I  never  want  to  pry  into  my 
lodgers'  business  as  long  as  they  're  respectable.  They  won't 
disturb  you,  though,"  continued  Mrs.  Minium,  observing  that 
Paul  appeared  to  consider  that  the  Copper  Man  would  proba- 
bly be  an  undesirable  neighbor  ;  "  that  is,  not  if  you  're  'way 
down  here ;  Mr.  Mirrium  and  I  sleep  right  under  Mr.  Feltch- 
er's  room  where  they  meet ;  that 's  the  trouble." 

"  I  believe  you  only  take  single  gentlemen  ?"  pursued  Paul. 

"  Only  single  gentlemen,"  returned  Mrs.  Mirrium.  "  But 
you  can't  be  a  married  gentleman,  you  're  too  young  to  be  a 
married  gentleman." 

Paul  smiled,  and  assured  the  landlady  that  she  was  correct 
in  supposing  him  to  be  single. 

"  I  don't  like  to  take  ladies,"  she  continued.  "  I  had  a  lady 
boarding  with  me  once,  for  a  while,  but  I  found  out  afterwards 
that  she  not  only  was  n't  a  good  lady,  but  she  Avas  a  very 
naughty  lady." 

"  Why  there  's  Mrs.  Dr.  Drigg,  is  n't  there  ?"  inquired  Paul, 
"  she  lives  here,  does  n't  she  ?" 

"  Oh,  la  !  I  know  her,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mirrium,  "  she  was 
my  second  cousin  before  she  married  Dr.  Drigg." 

"  Oh,"  said  Paul.  "  And  you  have  some  family  of  your 
own,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Mirrium,  "  I  Ve  my  husband  and  three 
children.  Mr.  Minium 's  out  of  town  just  now,  he  's  gone  to 


328  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Washington.  He  's  writing  a  book  on  free-trade,  and  he  's 
gone  on  to  see  Congress  about  it" 

"  Is  lie  in  favor  of  free-trade  ?"  asked  Paul. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Mirrium.  "  My  husband 's  dyed- 
in-the-wool  free-trade,  the  strongest  sort." 

"  Well,"  said  Paul,  after  a  few  moments  pause,  "  what  are 
your  terms  for  this  room  ?" 

"  Eight  dollars,"  said  Mrs.  Minium,  "  that 's  for  the  room. 
Fire  you  can  furnish  yourself,  you  have  a  box  in  the  cellar  for 
coal,  or  it  will  come  a  dollar  a  week.  Lights  you  furnish 
yourself." 

"  Eight  dollars  a  month  ?"  interrogated  Paul. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Mirrium. 

"  That  don't  include  washing,"  I  suppose. 

"  Oh,  no.  Washing  is  always  extra.  Six  shillings  a  dozen, 
I  charge  Mr.  Feltcher  ;  the -other  gentlemen  have  theirs  done 
themselves." 

"  Except  the  Copper  Man,"  suggested  Paul.  "  He  does  n't 
have  much  washing  I  suppose." 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Mirrium,  with  a  smile.  "  Nor  Mr.  Feltch- 
er either,  for  that  matter." 

"  Well,"  continued  Paul,  "  I  Ve  been  to  several  places,  but 
this  room  suits  me  better  than  any  of  the  others.  I  shall 
want  to  look  a  little  further,  but  probably  I  shall  come  back 
and  take  this  room.  You  want  some  references,  I  suppose." 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Mirrium,  "  I  mostly  have  references  with 
gentlemen,  but  when  I  can  see  that  a  gentleman  is  a  gentle- 
man, I  judge  for  myself.  I  should  n't  need  any  references 
with  a  gentleman  like  you,  for  I  can  tell  by  your  looks  that 
you  are  a  gentleman  that  '11  do  what 's  right." 


k 

CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  329 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Paul,  considerably  strengthened  in  his 
intention  to  engage  the  room.  "I  could  refer  you  to  Mr. 
Haggle,  or  Mr.  Change,  the  dry  goods  dealers  in  Broadway. 
You  know  their  store,  perhaps." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Mirrium.  "  I  buy  goods  there 
every  week  'most.  But  I  never  saw  you  there.  You  're  not 
in  their  store,  are  you  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Paul,  "  not  now.  I  used  to  be.  I  'm  a  medical 
student  now ;  that  is,  I  'm  going  to  be.  I  've  been  down  in 
Maine  'most  a  year,  and  just  got  back  this  morning." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Mirrium,  as  Paul  turned  toward  the 
door,  "  we  should  be  very  glad  to  have  you  take  the  room  if 
it  suits  you.  I  try  to  suit  all  my  gentlemen,  I  'm  sure,  just  as 
much  as  I  can ;  and  I  should  like  to  have  such  a  gentleman 
as  you." 

And  Paul  departed  to  pursue  his  inquiries.  But  that  night 
found  him  installed  in  his  new  lodging  in  the  front  parlor  of 
the  house  of  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Mirrium. 

Mrs.  and  Mr.  Mirrium  were  named  in  that  order  by  their^ 
.  humorous  acquaintance,  as  a  delicate  intimation  of  the  doubt 
which  existed  in  the  public  mind,  whether  Mr.  Mirrium  was 
really  entitled  to  be  considered  the  head  of  the  family.  The 
door-plate,  as  already  mentioned,  gave  out  that  H.  Mirrium 
was,  in  its  opinion,  the  head  of  the  household  under  its  guar- 
dianship ;  but  this  was  not  decisive,  for  although  Mr.  Mir- 
ritim's  given  name  was  Henry,  it  was  equally  true  that  Mrs. 
Mirrium  had  been  christened  Hannah. 

Mr.  Mirrium  was  indeed  arduously  engaged  in  great  enter- 
prises, calculated  to  win,  at  no  distant  day,  great  fame  to  him- 
self and  wealth  for  his  family.  But  so  it  was,  unhappily,  that 


330  CONE     CUT     CORXERS. 

no  one  of  these  enterprises  was  ever  brought  to  that  prosper- 
ous conclusion ;  Mr.  Minium's  versatility  of  talent  being  such 
as  to  prevent  him  from  completing  any  thing  of  consequence 
which  he  undertook. 

Mrs.  Minium,  on  the  other  hand,  occupied  herself  only  in 
the  humbler  employments  of  letting  rooms,  when  she  could 
find  tenants,  and  of  furnishing  such  gentlemen  as  would  in- 
trust themselves  to  her  hands  to  be  furnished ;  for  the  purpose 
of  which  latter  business,  she  turned  a  little  room  in  the  rear 
of  Professor  Tappum's  Institution,  into  a  shop  for  the  sale  of 
neckcloths,  ready-made  shirts,  Cologne-water,  combs  and 
brushes,  and  other  similar  articles,  such  as  are  understood  to 
constitute  the  furniture  of  a  gentleman.  In  this  branch  of  her 
business,  also,  she  was  slightly  assisted  by  her  daughter,  Mi.ss 
Edwina,  a  young  lady  of  the  supposed  age  of  sixteen,  and 
sadly  hindered  by  her  two  sons,  Howard  Fry,  a  boy  of  about 
four  years  and  one  half  old — whose  birth  had  occurred  at  the 
period  when  Mr.  Minium  was  actively  engaged  in  endeavor- 
ing to  establish  a  society  for  the  Amelioration  of  the  Condi- 
tion of  Prisoners,  of  which  he  hoped  to  be  the  well-salaried 
president — and  Calhoun  Peel,  an  infant,  born  since  the  com- 
mencement of  his  father's  devotion  to  the  cause  of  free-trade. 
And  certain  it  was  in  the  minds  of  those  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  household  economy  of  the  Miniums,  that  the  only 
funds  enjoyed  by  that  worthy  family  flowed  from  the  coffers 
of  Mrs.  Minium's  gentlemen's  furnishing  store,  or  from  the 
purses  of  Mrs.  Minium's  lodgers ;  which  certainly  contributed 
not  a  little  to  inflame  the  popular  doubt  whether  Mr.  Minium 
was  entitled  to  be  esteemed  the  head  of  the  family.  And  to 
those  familiar  with  these  facts,  it  was  pleasant  to  contemplate 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  331 

the  confidence  and  firm  faith  with  which  Mr.  Mirrium  awaited 
the  brilliant  issue  of  his  successive  enterprises,  and  assured 
his  wife,  meanwhile,  that  she  was  only  wasting  time  and 
money  in  "  her  foolish  goings  on,"  as  he  was  wont  to  style 
the  gentlemen's  furnishing  store  and  the  lodgers. 

Paul  had  a  fondness  for  political  discussion ;  and  he  awaited 
with  some  interest  the  return  of  Mr.  Mirrium  from  Washing- 
ton, expecting  to  fall  easily  into  deep  and  philosophical  con- 
versations with  that  gentleman,  upon  the  subject  of  free-trade, 
and  topics  connected  therewith.  Mr.  Mirrium  at  length  ar- 
rived. But  no  subject  appeared  further  from  his  mind  than 
that  of  free-trade.  Whether  Congress  and  the  Cabinet  had 
frowned  upon  the  intended  work,  and  stifled  it  in  embryo ; — 
or  whether  some  aspiring  politician,  discerning  the  transcend- 
ant  merit  of  the  book,  had  purchased  the  manuscript  with  a 
view  to  publish  it  in  his  own  name,  and  thereby  soar  upward 
in  public  favor  on  pinions  stronger  than  his  own ; — or  whether 
Mr.  Minium's  constitutional  inability  to  finish  any  thing,  in- 
terfered with  his  completing  the  volume  ; — Paul  never 
learned. 

At  all  events  Mr.  Mirrium  had  no  sooner  returned  than  he 
bought  a  second-hand  printing-press  and  a  limited  font  of 
type,  on  credit ;  turned  his  family  sitting-room  into  a  printing 
office,  and  commenced  the  publication  of  "  The  Laborer's 
Chronicle  and  Poor  Man's  Friend ;"  a  weekly  journal,  "  devot- 
ed to  the  interests  of  the  lower  classes."  But  it  soon  appeared 
experimentally  that  this  periodical  was  not  destined  to  meet 
with  the  success  which  its  merit  deserved  ;  inasmuch  as  there 
were  no  laborers,  every  man  applied  to  considering  himself  a 
master-workman,  or  as  good  as  one,  and  the  poor  men  had 


332  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

none  of  them  money  to  spare  for  subscriptions  to  a  new 
paper. 

Therefore,  this  journal  was  abandoned  with  its  second  issue; 
and  a  new  one  started  forthwith.  This  was  intended  to  con- 
tain advertisements  solely ;  and  was  to  be  distributed  gratis 
through  all  the  hotels,  steamboats,  restaurants,  railroad  trains, 
&c.,  &c. ;  and  the  expenses  of  its  publication,  including  a 
handsome  compensation  for  the  editorial  services  of  Mr.  Mir- 
riuni,  were  to  be  defrayed  by  assessment  upon  the  advertisers. 
To  bear  this  burden  the  advertisers  severally  promised,  at  least 
so  Mr.  Mirrium  understood  them,  but  subsequently  severally 
refused. 

These  enterprises  having  been  thus  brought  to  a  conclusion, 
Master  Howard  Fry  melted  up  the  greater  portion  of  the  type 
in  varions  processes  of  lead  manufacture ;  while  Mr.  Mirrium 
broke  the  press  in  the  attempt  to  reconstruct  it  into  a  packing 
machine  of  his  own  invention,  "  calculated,"  as  he  explained 
to  Paul,  "  to  supersede  all  known  modes  of  compressing  goods 
into  a  small  compass." 

After  the  accident  to  his  press,  Mr.  Mirrium  was  for  a  short 
interval  without  any  well-defined  occupation ;  until  he  opened 
an  office  down  in  some  unknown  part  of  the  city,  for  the  sale 
of  the  Catawba  wine  of  native  American  growth  and  manufac- 
ture. From  his  Catawba  agency  he  was  never  known  to 
realize  any  profits,  partly  because,  in  his  zeal  to  draw  custom, 
and  lay  the  foundations  of  an  extensive  business,  it  was  his 
principle  to  sell  at  retail  at  exactly  the  cost  price  at  whole- 
sale, besides  employing  a  considerable  quantity  in  giving  what 
he  called  "  samples  "  gratis,  to.  any  one  who  happened  to  call 
in  upon  him.  "  Nor  could  profit  be  expected," — he  was  ac- 


CONK     CUT     CORNERS.  333 

customed  to  observe  to  Paul  when  requesting  payment  of  that 
young  gentleman's  eight  dollars  in  advance,  to  enable  him  to 
pay  his  own  office  rent,  "  until  government  could  be  induced 
to  lay  a  prohibitive  duty  upon  foreign  wines.  The  adoption 
of  this  policy,"  he  would  urge,  "  is  earnestly  to  be  desired,  not 
only  for  the  happy  effect  it  would  have  upon  the  temperance 
cause,  by  checking  the  sale  of  adulterated  liquors,  but  as  a 
wise  measure  of  protection  to  the  American  manufacturers  of 
an  article  in  which  difference  of  climate  and  other  natural  ob- 
stacles must  forever  prevent  them,  if  unaided,  from  competing 
with  foreign  countries." 

In  the  bosom  of  the  family  of  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Mirrium,  Paul 
resided  a  couple  of  years  ;  sometimes,  meanwhile,  boarding  at  a 
hotel  near  by,  and  sometimes  going  through  a  miscellaneous 
course  of  restaurants.  He  steadily  pursued  his  medical  studies, 
for  the  first  few  months  in  the  capacity  of  assistant  at  a  low 
salary  to  a  neighboring  druggist,  and  afterward  reading  un- 
der the  direction  of  a  regular  practitioner,  and  attending  the 
lectures  of  a  medical  school  of  high  repute.  These  studies 
were  interspersed  to  a  limited  extent  with  some  of  the  usual 
recreations  of  a  medical  student  in  the  city. 

In  the  latter  he  often  enjoyed  the  company  of  his  cousin 
Jason.  It  is  true  that  Jason  was  far  less  cautious  and  prudent 
in  his  amusements  than  was  Paul,  and  often  exceeded  the 
limits  of  moderation  which  Paul  prescribed  for  himself.  But 
the  two  were  excellent  friends  nevertheless,  and  often  com- 
panions. It  was  not  in  Paul's  nature  to  resist  Jason's  cor- 
diality, nor  in  Jason's  to  be  offended  at  Paul's  good  sense. 

Occupied  by  these  his  studies  and  pursuits,  and  cheered  by 
the  companionship  of  his  fellow-students,  and  the  parental 


334  CONK     CUT     CORNERS. 

care  of  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Mirriurn,  Paul  trudged  steadily  onward 
toward  that  professional  degree  which  he  had  made  the  object 
of  his  ambition ; — pausing  sometimes  in  intervals  of  study,  to 
read  in  the  distant  future  of  imagination,  his  expected  diploma, 
and  the  wished-for  title, — PAUL  RUNDLE,  M.D. 


XXVII. 


DECEMBER   31,    18.52. 
JANUARY   1,   1858. 


IT  was  Friday 
evening ;  the  last 
night  of  the  year. 
The  great  solar 
light  had  been 
turned  down  in 

the  West.  Night  drew  her  curtains ;  and  Nature  went  to  sleep. 
But  New  York,  like  a  naughty,  restless  little  boy,  laid  wide 
awake,  winking  his  bright  eyes  at  the  stars.  He  talked  busily 
to  himself  in  a  murmuring  tone  of  voice,  and  now  and  then 
you  might  have  heard  him  hum  the  fragment  of  some  merry 
song.  He  moved  restlessly,  too,  from  time  to  time,  as  if 
thinking  of  some  active  game  which  his  \veary  feet  had  not 
quite  forgotten. 

But  at  last  the  busy  murmur  of  the  great  city  hushed. 


336  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

One  by  one,  the  noises  of  evening,  slinking  to  their 
hiding-places,  were  lost  to  the  ear.  The  barrel-organ  having 
sung  to  sleep  all  the  children  of  its  neighborhood,  even 
those  itself  had  waked,  went  slowly  and  unwillingly  to  its 
dark  quarters,  in  a  cellar  at  the  end  of  that  long  narrow 
alley.  The  apple-women,  whose  flaring  lights  had  con- 
tributed to  the  illumination  of  the  street  all  the  evening, 
at  last  packed  their  stale,  half-frozen  fruit  away,  to  be 
polished  again  for  exhibition  in  the  morning,  dissected  their 
stalls,  extinguished  their  smoking  lamps,  and  were  seen  no 
more.  The  dealers  in  hot  cakes  and  pies,  whose  carts,  half- 
rockaway,  half  wheelbarrow,  had  sheltered  them  all  day  from 
omnibus-wheels,  and  who  saved  the  expense  of  private  lights 
in  the  evening  by  getting  behind  lamp-posts  in  the  open 
angles  of  streets,  made  preparations  to  move,  ate  their 
last  pieces  of  pie  as  an  economical  supper,  trundled  their 
whole  establishments  away  from  the  brilliant  thoroughfares, 
and  disappeared  in  dark  bye-streets.  The  itinerant  market- 
men  who  had  stationed  their  rickety  wagons  of  questionable 
provisions  upon  frequented  corners  of  the  poorer  streets, 
ceased  their  unintelligible  cries,  and  started  up  their  lank  and 
bony  steeds  for  home — if  homes  they  had.  Even  the  news- 
boys, who,  late  in  the  evening,  had  unexpectedly  broken  out 
with  an  extra,  and  shrieked  a  dreadful  accident  and  loss  of 
life,  from  the  Battery  to  Bull's  Head,  at  last  became  resigned 
to  the  calamity,  stopped  their  cries,  and  went  gasping  home. 

One  after  another,  the  little  corner  groceries  retired  within 
themselves;  the  barrels  of  faded  vegetables  and  piles  of 
painted  pails  which  had  been  dozing  on  the  sidewalk  since 
morning,  wetit  in  to  spend  the  night ;  the  basket  of  cocoa- 


CONE     CUT     COKNliRS.  337 

nuts  that  had  each  grinned  mechanically  all  day  at  the  pas- 
sers-by, delighting  to  deceive  the  little  boys  into  the  belief 
that  they  were  monkeys'  heads,  retired  within,  and  mounted 
watch  upon  the  counter. 

One  after  another,  the  illuminated  fronts  of  the  theaters 
grew  dark,  as  the  crowd  of  jaded  pleasure-seekers  poured  out 
from  their  long  imprisonment. 

Among  the  last  of  one  of  these  crowds  were  three  young 
gentlemen,  who  walked  away  arm  in  arm  from  the  threshold 
of  the  theater  in  Broadway,  and  conversed  in  a  joyous  and 
merry  manner  as  they  went  up  that  thoroughfare.  They  had 
been  improving  the  evening — it  being  impressed  upon  their 
minds  that  it  was  the  last  evening  they  would  ever  enjoy  in 
1852 — by  devoting  their  time  and  attention  to  a  lesson  at  the 
great — perhaps  the  greatest  school  of  moral  reform  which 
civilized  institutions  afford — and  now  having  learned  some  what 
of  decorum  by  listening  to  profanity,  and  something  of  moral- 
ity by  mingling  in  circles  quite  above  morality,  they  were, 
it  may  be  supposed,  going  home,  revolving  in  their  minds 
those  happy  and  wholesome  reflections  which  the  mirror,  thus 
held  up  to  nature,  had  cast 

"  Well,  fellows,"  said  one  of  them,  whose  voice  ought  to  be 
familiar  by  this  time  to  the  reader,  for  it  was  that  of  Jason 
Chesslebury,  "  where  next  ?" 

And  he  stopped  his  companions  upon  a  corner. 

Really,  it  seemed  difficult  for  them  to  cease  their  motion, 
for  they  swayed  to  and  fro  as  if  walking,  although  making  no 
progress. 

"  /tell  you  where  I'm  going"  said  one  of  his  companions, 
emphasizing  the  first  and  last  words  of  each  sentence  with  a 
15 


338  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

feeble  gesture.  "  /  tell  5-011  where  I  'm  going.  Now  '*  the 
time  for  supper" 

"  Oh,  you  had  better  go  home,"  interrupted  the  third  mem- 
ber of  the  party,  who  had  evidently  profited  the  least  of  them 
all  by  the  lessons  of  the  evening.  "  You  had  better  go  home,"' 
said  he. 

"  Home  !  sweet  home  !  Oh,  yes,  we  '11  all  go  home.  Down 
among  the  dead  men." 

'•  Phil-hi-lip,"  said  Jason,  his  tone  of  sober  earnestness- 
somewhat  marred  by  the  interruptions  of  hiccough,  "  Philip, 
your  're  in-hintoxicated.  You  Ve  been  drinking  too  much/' 

"  Oh,  come  along,"  remonstrated  the  third  gentleman,  with 
some  impatience.  "  Come,  come,  I  'm  in  a  hurry." 

"  Hurry  ?"  said  Philip  Fawley,  inquiringly.  "  Hurry  ? 
Oh  yes  !  Hurry  !  Tell  him  to  hurry.  Fetch  along  another 
bottle." 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Jason,  turning  toward  a  lamp-post,  and 
pointing  with  a  crooked  finger  at  the  gas-light.  "  Seems  to 
me  that 's  very  small,  sm-h-hall  for  a  full  moon." 

"  Oh,  you  're  as  drunk  as  you  can  be,  both  of  you,"  said 
the  other. 

"  No,"  said  Jason,  "  I  'm  not  drunk.  I  deny  the  fact.  I  'm 
not  at  all.  I  'm  only  hungry.  I  'm  s'  'ungry  that  I  can 
hardly  stan'." 

"  Tm  not  drunk  's  /  can  be,"  said  Mr.  Fawley,  speaking  at 
the  same  time  with  Jason.  "  Not  by  a  good  deal.  I  can  be 
a  good  d'l  drunker  'n  this." 

They  were  just  at  this  moment  standing  at  the  head  of  a 
flight  of  stairs,  leading  down  to  a  brilliantly-lighted  basement. 
It  was  a  prominent  Broadway  restaurant.  Jason  took  hold 


COKE     CUT     CORNERS.  339 

of  the  lamp-post,  to  prevent  it  from  foiling  over,  which  it 
seemed  much  inclined  to  do. 

Jason  being  hungry,  and  Philip  being  thirsty,  it  was  deter- 
mined to  go  in  to  supper.  Then  pretty  soon  Jason  had  a 
consciousness  that  the  lamp-post  left  him  and  went  away, 
end  that  there  were  a  great  many  lights  about,  and  a  very 
warm  and  fragrant  atmosphere,  and  a  clinking  of  glasses, 
and  a  noise  of  much  conversation  and  loud  laughter,  and  a 
crowd  of  people,  and  a  great  smoke  of  cigars ;  and  Jason 
was  holding  on  to  a  counter  to  prevent  its  sailing  away  from 
him,  and  a  gentleman  in  shirt-sleeves  behind  the  counter  was 
pouring  out  a  glass  of  brandy  for  another  gentleman,  and  was 
saying : 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Chesslebury  ?" 

"  How  d'  you  do  f  returned  Jason,  wondering  faintly  who 
it  was. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  the  gentleman,  who  to  Jason's 
eyes  seemed  either  to  have  grown  very  small,  or  to  have  gone 
a  great  way  off.  "  Don't  you  remember  me  ?  Mr.  Stretch/' 

"  How  d'  you  do,  Mr.  Wretch  ?"  said  Jason.  "  I  'm  glad 
to  see  you." 

His  hand,  dropping  the  counter,  rose  to  salute  the  hand  of 
Mr.  Stretch,  but  forgetting  its  purpose,  suddenly  grasped  the 
glass  of  brandy,  and  poured  it  down  Jason's  throat. 

Then  Jason  asked  Mr.  Stretch  if  he  had  been  admitted  to 
the  bar,  and  then  somebody  laughed,  and  then  when  the 
room  turned  around,  Jason  had  an  idea  that  the  counter  got 
away  from  him,  and  the  floor  tumbled  up  and  struck  him  on 
the  head,  and  somebody  said  "  he  's  drunk,"  and  he  wondered 
who  was  drunk,  and  he  could  not  think  what  had  become  of 


340  COKE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Jason  L.  Chesslebury,  whom  ho  had  a  confused  idea  of  having 
left  at  the  theater,  and  then  he  ceased  to  have  any  ideas  at 
all,  and  went  out  of  consciousness  altogether. 

One  by  one  in  the  streets  of  the  darkening  city,  the  shut- 
1  ters  of  the  cigar-shops  went  up.  One  by  one  the  lights  ap- 
peared in  the  third  story  windows,  and  one  by  one  they  faded 
out.  One  by  one  the  blight  oyster  balloons,  which  marked 
the  corners  of  less  frequented  streets,  descended  and  rose 
again  invisible.  One  by  one  the  brilliant  windows  of  the 
druggists'  shops,  grew  dim,  and  the  colored  globes,  which 
peered  like  hideous  eyes  through  the  broad  spaces  in  the 
shutters,  cast  grim  glances  on  the  few  who,  at  this  late  hour, 
were  passing.  One  by  one  the  tardiest  omnibuses  finished 
their  last  downward  trip,  and  trundled  heavily  up,  making 
more  noise  in  the  deserted  thoroughfare  than  all  the  bustle 
of  the  day.  One  after  another,  each  of  the  policemen  stationed 
in  the  streets,  found  an  easy  seat  and  a  nice  place  to  rest 
his  back,  in  the  corner  by  the  coal-bin,  or  on  <in  empty  ash-box 
turned  up  against  a  lamp-post. 

Time  approached  the  smallest  of  the  small  hours.  The 
clocks  of  New  York,  which  are  so  accurate  that  they  take 
note  of  the  difference  of  their  longitudes,  and  never  strike  at 
the  same  instant,  were  one  by  one  announcing  that  it  was 
next  year.  One  by  one,  stumbling  up  into  the  street  from 
brightly-lighted  basements,  came  forth  various  groups  of  light- 
hearted,  heavy-bodied  gentlemen.  One  by  one  they  separated 
and  disappeared.  One  by  one  the  neighboring  policemen, 
whose  repose  their  songs  and  laughter  had  disturbed  for  a 
time,  returned  to  their  interrupted  slumbers.  And  one  by 
one  the  hours  of  darkness  wore  away. 


C  O  N  E     C  U  T     C  O  II  N  E  U  S  .  341 

Gradually  and  stealthily  a  faint  tinge  of  light  crept  over  the 
slumbering  city.  One  after  another  early  market-carts  and 
wagons  came  rattling  down  the  avenues.  One  by  one  the 
voices  of  early-rising  chanticleers  arose  in  the  clear,  cold  air,  * 
revealing  a  proportion  of  poultry  resident  in  the  metropolis, 
which  otherwise  would  have  been  quite  incredible.  One  by 
one,  chilly-looking  lads  took  down  the  shutters  of  early-open- 
ing stores.  One  by  one,  early-rising  servant-maids  swept  oft' 
the  sidewalks  intrusted'  to  their  charge.  One  by  one  the  om- 
nibuses recommenced  their  tiresome  travels.  One  by  one  the 
carriers  of  the  morning  papers  hurried  round  upon  their  early 
errands.  One  by  one  the  avocations  of  the  day  were  recom- 
menced. One  by  one  the  noises  of  the  day  took  courage  and 
spoke  up.  One  by  one  the  white  snow-flakes  that  had  fallen 
during  the  night,  grew  black,  going  into  mourning  that  they 
had  fallen  upon  pavements  in  the  city,  instead  of  upon  fields 
among  the  hills.  And  one  by  one  the  happy  people  who  had 
made  the  most  of  the  holidays,  awoke  to  a  sense  of  relief  that 
it  was  all  over,  and  entertained  a  gratitude  that  Christmas 
comes  but  once  a  year. 

"  Yah-ah-aw-h'm !" 

The  speaker,  if  such  he  may  be  called,  who  only  yawns, 
turned  over  and  disclosed  his  face  to  the  view  of  the  bronze 
young  lady  who  stood  upon  the  mantle-piece  holding  the  gas- 
burner.  The  bronze  young  lady  exhibited  no  sense  of  propri- 
ety— of  impropriety  rather — under  these  circumstances,  but 
looked  as  straightforward  as  ever.  Whether  she  recognized 
Mr.  Jason  Chesslebury  or  not,  it  was  clear  that  Jason  did  not 
recognize  her  ;  for  opening  his  eyes  wider,  the  natural  action 
of  the  muscles  of  the  eyelid  being  assisted  by  much  nibbing 


342  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

and  kneading,  he  sat  up  in  bed  entirely  regardless  of  the 
bronze  presence,  and  took  a  long  breath.  He  pressed  his 
hands  against  his  temples,  his  elbows  standing  out  on  each 
side. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I'm  a  pretty  fellow." 

Apparently  deeply  struck  with  this  thought,  he  meditated 
upon  it  in  silence  and  with  half-closed  eyes. 

Just  then  the  noisy  street  below  sent  up  a  shout  of  cheers 
mingled  with  the  rush  and  rumble  of  carts  and  omnibuses. 
Hearing  this,  Jason  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  yawned  louder 
even  than  before.  Something  strange  in  the  surroundings  of 
his  position  seemed  to  quicken  his  waking  senses,  for  he 
looked  about  him  to  see  where  he  was. 

From  a  printed  placard  framed  and  hung  on  the  door  oppo- 
site to  him,  and  headed  "  RULES  OF  THIS  HOUSE,"  he  conjec- 
tured that  he  was  in  a  hotel.  This  conjecture  was  confirmed, 
not  only  by  the  comfortless  elegance  of  the  room,  but  also  by 
dim  and  vague  reminiscences  of  having  been  in  a  crowd  last 
night,  and  of  being  blissfully  oblivious  of  the  way  to  Wash- 
ington Square.  Through  the  same  reminiscences,  as  they 
grew  by  effort  into  recollections  of  evening  merriment  and 
jollity,  and  through  a  returning  sense  of  expectation — some- 
what forlorn  and  not  at  all  as  yet  realized — of  a  happy  New 
Year,  he  became  inclined  to  believe  that  it  was  the  first  of 
January,  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-three.  By  his  watch  he 
found  that  it  was  ten  minutes  of  ten.  By  that  grand  golden 
time-piece,  the  sun,  which  Nature  had  some  hours  previous 
taken  from  under  her  pillow  of  eastern  clouds  and  hung  up 
where  all  the  world  might  see  it,  he  knew  that  the  ten  indi- 
cated by  his  watch  was  ten  A.M.  From  all  these  cireura- 


: 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  343 

stances  he  formed  the  opinion  that  it  was  high  time  for  him 
to  get  up. 

The  young  gentleman  having  arrived  at  this  conclusion, 
straightened  himself  up  in  bed,  burrowed  with  both  hands  in 
his  disheveled  hair,  drew  a  long  breath,  attempted  unsuccess- 
fully another  yawn,  put  his  palms  to  his  temples,  contended 
for  a  few  momeats  with  provoking  suggestions  of  unachieva- 
ble hiccoughs,  and  then  returned  to  his  first  thought,  and  re- 
peated it. 

"  Well,  I  'm  a  pretty  fellow." 

It  may  be  doubtful  whether  that  unprejudiced  observer,  the 
bronze  young  lady,  agreed  with  him  in  this  opinion.  His 
appearance  presented  that  kind  of  prettiness,  which  one  who 
confesses  to  a  fondness  for  a  clear  head,  bright  eyes,  fresh 
breath,  and  elastic  muscle  will  not  envy.  What  there  could 
be  in  sleep — balmy  sleep — to  leave  a  gentleman  in  the  condi- 
tion in  which  it  left  Mr.  Chesslebury  this  morning,  passes  con- 
jecture. He  looked  as  if  instead  of  reposing  in  the  arms  of 
Morpheus  he  had  been  hugged  until  almost  smothered.  He 
appeared  as  if  balmy  sleep  lighting  on  his  "  lids  unsullied  by  a 
tear,"  had  crawled  thence  all  over  his  countenance,  making 
wrinkles  and  frowns,  the  foot-prints  of  discomfort  wherever 
she  went ;  and  had  afterward  spent  an  hour  or  two  in  the 
balmy  amusement  of  tying  knots  in  his  hair. 

"  Well,"  said  Jason,  getting  up  gradually,  a  joint  at  a  time 
as  it  were,  and  taking  a  rest  against  the  mantle,  with  one 
hand  against  his  forehead,  while  he  spoke,  it  is  to  be  presumed 
to  the  bronze  young  lady ;  "  if  you  ever  catch  me  with  those 
fellows  another  night  you  '11  know  it.  I  did  n't  know  I  was 
such  a  fool.  Stupid !" 


344  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

The  bronze  young  lady  looked  still  stern  and  steadfast,  and 
expressed  no  sympathy  Avith  Jason's  feelings.  How  should 
she  ?  Though  she  had  not  had  a  wink  of  sleep  all  night,  she 
had  no  headache,  and  her  eyes  were  at  least  no  darker  than 
usual. 

The  reflections  of  a  young  man  of  one  and  twenty  who 
moralizes  upon  his  evening  amusements  under  the  influence 
of  a  morning  headache,  are  not,  perhaps,  the  most  trustworthy 
symptoms  of  a  thorough  reform.  Still  Jason  believed  himself 
very  much  in  earnest  in  denouncing,  in  his  thoughts,  the 
bachelor .  party  of  which  he  had  been  a  shining  member  the 
evening  previous  ;  and  he  honestly  resolved  never  again  to 
join  in  such  an  unsatisfactory,  jolly,  heartless,  ridiculous,  glo- 
rious, wretched,  rollicking,  miserable  affair,  as  that  of  last 
night. 

"  I  declare,"  said  he,  "  I  believe  I  've  had  enough  of  'em.  I 
shan't  go  to  supper  with  'em  next  time.  'T\vas  a  good  supper, 
though.  That 's  a  first  rate  place,  too ;  I  wonder  what  the 
name  was.  I  did  n't  notice,  it  was  so  late  going  there  after 
the  play.  But  'twas  too  bad  to  carry  on  so  at  the  theater. 
They  ought  n't  to  have  drank  any  thing  there.  'Twas  miser- 
able sherry  I  had  there,  too.  Xot  fit  to  drink.  The  Cham- 
pagne at  supper,  though,  was  pretty  fair.  But  I  'm  afraid  I 
took  a  glass  too  much.  But  how  Phil.  Fawley  poured  it 
down !  I  never  knew  such  a  comical  fellow.  But  he  's  a  hard 
case." 

It  was  strange,  but  this  was  almost  exactly  Mr.  Philip 
Fawley's  opinion  of  Mr.  Chesslebury,  as  expressed  by  him  this 
same  morning  to  the  mutual  friend,  who  had  formed  one  of 
this  same  bachelor  party. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  345 

"And  Fawley  is  a  married  man  too,  I  believe.  I  wonder 
how  lie  got  home  after  supper.  Agreeable  for  Mrs.  Fawley  ! 
If  I  were  married,  before  I  would  make  such  a  goney  of  my- 
self— I  wonder  if  Salanda  thinks — well,  she  believes  it 's  all 
wicked.  She  don't  know  it,  and  would  n't  believe  it  if  she 
were  told.  But  the  fact  is,  it 's  all  this  company.  We  young 
fellows  ought  to  be  careful  how  we  get  together  so.  As  long 
as  we  keep  in  mixed  society  it 's  all  right  enough.  I  don't 
believe  there  's  any  harm  in  having  a  good  time,  only  it 
oughtn't  to  be  carried  too  far.  But  these  times,  like  last 
night,  to  come  out  after  a  game  supper,  and  be  so  outrage- 
ously mellow  as  those  fellows  were — actually  not  in  a  con- 
dition to  take  themselves  home — it  is — well,  I  would  have 
gone  home  straight  enough,  only  I  was  too  tired.  My  knees 
were  tired,  somehow,  I  suppose  with  walking  so  much  yes- 
terday. Ah-h.  My  head  aches  worse  and  worse.  I  wonder 
if  it  would  n't  do  me  good  to  smoke.  Not  before  breakfast, 
though.  I  rather  think  I  shall  have  to  have  a  smaU  glass  of 
brandy.  It  '11  clear  off  this  headache,  and  settle  my  appetite." 

Having  completed  his  toilet  superficially,  he  dismissed 
Salanda  and  his  scruples  from  his  mind,  and  went  down  stairs, 
lie  paid  his  lodging,  and  then  stepped  into  the  bar,  prescrib- 
ing for  his  headache  on  good  sound  homeopathic  principles — 
similia  similibus  curantur — but  taking  a  dose,  which  al- 
though not  large,  was,  in  strictness  of  speech,  certainly  not 
infinitesimal.  From  the  bar  he  sallied  out  upon  Broadway. 

"  The  secret  of  it  is,"  he  philosophized  with  himself,  as  he 

walked  up  that  thoroughfare,  "  that  I  ought  to  keep  out  of 

that  kind  of  society. '  The  fellows  are  well  enough  in  their 

way.     But  when  we  get  together  so,  we  don't  behave  as  well 

15* 


346  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

as  we  know  how.  After  this,  I  must  keep  out  of  these  buck 
parties,  and  go  more  into  mixed  society.  There  's  no  danger 
there." 

Having  settled  this  distinction  in  his  own  mind,  with  much 
satisfaction  and  honest  comfort  in  the  prospect  of  his  future 
course,  Jason  went  into  Taylor's  to  breakfast.  Breakfast  over, 
he  hesitated  for  some  time  between  an  omnibus  and  a  cigar. 
Having  finally  chosen  the  former,  and  taken  a  passage  in  an 
unboiled-lobster-colored  vehicle,  labelled  "  Broadway  and  Fifth 
Avenue,"  he  was  soon  set  down  near  the  family  mansion. 
Arrived  there,  he  proceeded  by  easy  stages  and  with  much 
elaboration,  to  prepare  himself  for  entering  beneath  the  pro- 
tection of  that  newly  discovered  safeguard  of  the  virtuous 
morals  of  young  men — Mixed  Society. 

Having  with  some  difficulty  satisfied  his  mother  that  there 
were  good  reasons  for  his  .last  night's  absence,  and  being 
obliged  to  leave  his  sister  very  much  dissatisfied,  he  bent  his 
steps  to  the  work  of  making  New  Year's  calls. 

New  Year's  calls  are  the  pet  social  institutions  of  New 
York.  By  custom  immemorial,  every  gentleman  on  the  first 
day  of  the  year,  calls  upon  all  the  ladies  of  his  acquaintance ; 
especially  those  whom  he  does  not  want  to  call  upon  again 
until  the  long  year  shall  roll  away.  By  custom  immemorial, 
every  gentleman  that  is  a  gentleman,  calls  upon  all  the  ladies 
whom  he  knows  enough  to  call  upon,  and  some  whom  he  does 
not ;  and"  if  the  number  of  such  be  not  enough  to  weary  him, 
he  locks  his  arm  into  that  of  any  gentleman  of  his  acquaint- 
ance whom  he  happens  to  meet  in  the  street,  and  is  straight- 
way introduced,  and  put  on  the  most  friendly  terms  with  all 
the  lady  friends  of  his  comrade.  By  custom  immemorial, 


CONE     CUT     C  O  U  N  E  II  S  .  347 

every  lady  that  is  a  lady,  devotes  her  hours,  her  parlors,  her 
newest  dresses,  and  whatever  sum  she  can  raise  for  invest- 
ment in  refreshments,  to  the  reception  of  the  invariable  callers. 
By  immemorial  custom,  the  sidewalks  are  full  of  black  hats, 
best  coats,  spruce  pantaloons,  patent-leather  shoes  ;  and  silk 
and  satin  is  nowhere  to  be  seen ;  not  even  in  the  shut-up-for- 
the-day  windows  of  the  dry-goods  stores. 

In  compliance  with  this  immemorial  custom,  Jason  bent  his 
steps  to  the  work  of  making  Xew  Year's  calls. 

As  he  went  down  the  steps  of  the  family  mansion,  he  drew 
from  his  pocket  a  handsome  gold  hunting-watch — so  called, 
he  was  accustomed  to  insinuate  when  criticising  its  besetting 
tendency  to  run  slow,  because  it  was  always  chasing  time  and 
never  caught  it.  It  was  one  o'clock. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  first  for  Mrs.  Gulley's.  What  mother 
wants  me  to  call  there  for,  I  don't  see.  However,  she  's  a, 
good  old  soul  if  she  is  a  stiff-backed  one.  Next  Mrs.  AVal- 
cotts.  The  Brownings  is  right  round  the  corner  from  there, 
and  then  Stuccuppe's ;  that  is  only  a  block  or  two,  I  can  walk 
that.  And  then — or  no,  though — I  guess  I  '11  grub  at  Mrs. 
Stuccuppe's.  She  sets  a  first-rate  table  Xew  Year's-day.  I  '11 
be  there  about  five,  I  guess." 

With  a  long  list  in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  of  places  to  call  at, 
and  feeling  very  stiff  and  fine  as  to  his  clothes,  but  very  lax 
and  miserable  as  to  his  brains  and  legs,  Jason  hastened  for- 
ward with  what  alacrity  he  could  command,  to  reach  the 
protection  of  that  safeguard  of  the  virtuous  morals  of  young 
men — Mixed  Society. 

Mixed  Society  received  him  cordially.  And  the  first  right 
hand  of  fellowship  which  that  guardian  of  the  virtuous  morals 


348  CONE     CUT     COU  NEBS. 

of  young  men  extended  to  him,  consisted  of  the  two  first 
fingers  of  Mrs.  Gulley. 

Mrs.  Gulley  was  a  very  elderly  lady.  She  was  more  than 
that,  she  was  an  ancient  institution.  She  was  ancient,  not  so 
much  in  years,  for  in  that  respect  she  had  not  so  very  much 
the  advantage,  or  the  disadvantage,  if  it  be  so  considered,  of 
Mrs.  Stuccuppc ;  hut  in  this,  that  it  was  her  pride  to  be  old, 
while  it  was  Mrs.  Stuccuppe's  vanity  to  be  young.  She  was 
nn  institution,  for  she  intentionally  presented  to  the  vision  of 
the  young  people  around  her,  a  perpetual  embodiment  of  the 
graces,  virtues,  manners  and  costumes  of  their  ancestry.  On 
these  a'ccounts  she  wore  an  enormous  white  turban  with  dang- 
ling tassels,  a  dress  of  intense  blackness,  set  off  by  a  semi- 
modernized  ruff  of  white  lace  about  the  neck.  And  she  called 
Jason  "  Master,"  which  title  gave  him  great  dissatisfaction, 

-and  was  the  secret  cause  of  his  distaste  for  her. 
^M 

"  How  do  you  do,  Master  Chesslebury  ?"  said  the  ancestral  in- 
stitution, receiving  her  visitor  in  great  state,  after  approved  mod- 
els of  the  last  century,  and  advancing  upon  him  with  a  little  cour- 
tesy, and  a  very  considerable  sweep,  as  he  entered  the  parlor  door. 

And  as  Jason  made  no  active  resistance,  she  shook  two  fin- 
gers with  him. 

"  And  how  do  you  do  1 — how  well  you  are  looking  too ; 
and  so  handsome ;  and  grown  so  too  ;  you  can  not  possibly 
perceive  how  you  have  grown.  Why,  I  recollect  you  when 
you  were  quite  an  infant — quite  an  infant,"  repeated  the  old 
lady,  as  if  it  were  an  incredible  thing  and  every  way  extraor- 
dinary that  Jason  should  have  been  an  infant,  and  a  fact  not 
to  be  believed  except  upon  the  unhesitating  testimony  of  an 
unimpeachable  eye-witness. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  349 

%   ,  *.-.- 

"Yes,  you  certainly  have  grown  wonderfully,"  continued 
the  venerable  narrator  of  these  startling  experiences.  "  Why  I 
recollect,  Lucretia — my  daughter  Lucre tia,  Master  Chesslebury." 

At  this  parenthetic  introduction,  Master  Chesslebury,  who 
his  taken  an  old-fashioned  mahogany  chair,  rises  very  grim, 
bows  the  least  possible  bow,  and  sits  down  again.  My  daugh- 
ter Lucretia  makes  a  little  effort  to  rise,  but  abandons  it  upon 
the  instant,  and  lets  the  effort  pass  as  a  recognition.  It  is 
wisely  done,  for  she  is  prepared  for  the  hospitalities  of  the  day, 
in  such  a  state  of  starch,  that  to  sit  down  again  would  seem  a 
difficult  task,  and  one  not  to  be  lightly  incurred. 

"  Why,  I  recollect,"  continued  the  elder  lady,  "  perfectly 
well,  how  his  poor  dear  papa  brought  him  round  here  to  call 
when  he  was  about  five  years  old ;  and  he  died  so  suddenly, 
too,  and  so  quite  unexpectedly — quite  cut  down,  as  I  may  say, 
i;i  the  flower  of  his  youth — at  least  he  always  seemed  young, 
you  know,  to  an  old  lady  like  me.  And  then  they  did  not 
really  know  what  the  matter  was  until  after  he  died,  did  they  ? — 
though  that  is  very  often  the  way  with  the  doctors ;  they 
know  just  how  to  cure  you  after  you  've  died ;  or,  as  we  used 
to  say  when  I  was  young,  I  recollect,  they  always  let  the 
horse  out  after  they  shut  the  stable  door ; — and  so  let  me  sec ; 
what  was  I  saying  ?  oh !  yes,  I  recollect,  I  was  saying  how 
much  you  have  grown,  Master  Chesslebury,  and  so  tall,  too ; 
and  you  look  very  much  like  your  papa,  only  it  seems  to  mo 
you  have  got  your  mother's  eyes — don't  they  ever  tell  you 
y.m  resemble  your  papa?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Yes,  except  the  eyes.  But — dear  me,  though,  won't  you 
take  some  refreshments  1" 


350  c  o  ?:  E    c  r  T    c  o  u  x  E  n  s . 

«-Xo,  I— " 

"  Oh,  certainly,  you  will  take  some  refreshments,  Lucretia, 
my  dear — " 

Lucretia,  my  dear,  rose  from  her  seat  and  sailed  along  the 
floor  to  the  refreshment-table  in  the  back  parlor.  At  least 
she  seemed  to  sail.  There  was  no  appearance  of  walking. 

"Oh,  certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Gulley,  rising  and  convoying 
Master  Chesslebury  in  the  wake  of  the  bark  Lucretia,  "  you 
must  not  refuse  to  take  some  refreshments ;  a  little  something, 
some  cake  at  least.  It 's  an  old-fashioned  cake,  but  it  used  to 
be  thought  very  nice  I  remember  when  I  was  young.  And 
you  '11  take  a  glass  of  wine  with  my  daughter  Lucretia.  Lu- 
cretia, child,  pour  Master  Chesslebury  a  glass  of  wine.'' 

My  daughter  Lucretia,  a  child  it  may  be  observed,  whose 
age  could  not,  by  the  most  liberal  allowance,  be  computed  to 
fall  within  twenty-three  years,  poured  out  a  glass  of  a  rich 
red-looking  wine,  and  handed  it  to  Jason  across  the  table. 

Jason,  indicating  by  a  bow  to  mother  and  daughter,  which 
they  acknowledged  by  ancestral  courtesies,  that  it  was  his 
chief  purpose  to  evince  his  high  respect  for  them,  and  his 
sincere  desire  that  the  health  of  each  might  be  improved, 
strengthened,  and  perpetuated,  drank  the  contents  of  the 
glass. 

And  this  was  his  first  lesson  in  moral  reform,  taught  by 
that  guardian  of  the  virtuous  morals  of  young  men — Mixed 
Society. 

Then  with  a  number  of  remembrances  for  mother,  and 
polite  inquiries  after  little  sister  Frederica,  and  a  host  of  cau- 
tions and  good  advices  for  himself,  such  as  had  been  collected 
by  wise  and  saving  men  and  women  of  past  centuries,  and 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  351 

treasured  up  at  interest  in  that  Institution  for  the  Savings  of 
Departed  Ancestors,  Mrs.  Bartholomew  Gulley,  Jason  was  al- 
lowed to  slip  out  of  the  parlor  into  the  hall.  Hence  he  was 
handsomely  bowed  into  the  street  at  the  front  door,  by  a 
gray-headed,  white  neck-clothed,  solemn-visaged,  black-coated, 
respectably  knee-buckled,  old  serving  man ;  a  serving  man 
evidently  selected  by  Mrs.  Gulley  as  her  first  choice  from  the 
storehouse  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

And  thus  Jason  spent  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon, 
under  the  tuition  of  that  guardian  of  the  virtuous  morals  of 
young  men — Mixed  Society. 

That  prudent,  yet  considerate  and  liberal  instructress,  in- 
dulged him  without  apprehension  of  danger  in  that  social 
converse  and  enjoyment  which  he  had  found  he  could  not 
safely  seek  in  the  convivialities  of  young  men.  Under  her 
protection,  he  felt  himself  safe.  He  quite  recovered  from  his 
headache,  and  became  lively  and  even  brilliant  in  conversa- 
tion. He  was  very  careful  too  to  take  wine  but  very  seldom. 
Although  in  the  course  of  his  calls  wine  was  often  offered  to 
him,  and  pressed  upon  him  even,  yet  under  the  influence  of 
his  newly-chosen  preceptress,  he  declined  it,  except  in  cases 
where  there  was  some  special  reason  rendering  it  almost  per- 
emptory in  that  particular  instance  to  accept  it. 

Thus,  after  leaving  Mrs.  Gulley's,  he  took  wine  with  Miss 
Botherbody,  because  she  urfjed  him  to,  and  would  not  hear 
of  his  saying  no,  and  he  really  could  not  avoid  it  without 
being  positively  rude,  which  of  course  was  not  to  be  thought 
of  on  New  Year's-day.  And  he  took  wine  with  Miss  Ju- 
berry,  because  she  was  a  splendid-looking  girl,  and  he  was 
proud  to.  He  took  wine  with  Miss  Noddies,  because  he  did 


352  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

not  like  her,  and  was  glad  of  something  to  interrupt  her  con- 
versation ;  and  he  took  wine  with  Miss  De  Peyster,  because 
he  liked  her,  and  wanted  to  prolong  his  call.  He  took  wine 
at  Mrs.  Hoozsters,  because  there  he  met  Mrs.  MacMerry,  who 
was  spending  the  day  to  receive  calls,  and  Mrs.  MacMerry 
asked  him  to  break  a  bottle  of  Champagne  for  her,  which  of 
course  he  could  not  refuse  to  do.  And  finally  he  took  wine 
at  Mrs.  Wrysen's,  because  her  coffee  was  cold,  and  there  was 
nothing  else  to  take  out  the  taste  of  her  detestable  French 


One  or  two  dry  calls  after  the  French  kisses  brought  Jason 
to  Mrs.  Stuccuppe's. 

Mrs.  Stuccuppe's  parlors  were  perhaps  the  most  elegant 
parlors  on  Fifth  Avenue.  Mr.  Stuccuppe  had  about  a  year 
previously  made  a  large  accession  to  his  fortune  through  a 
partial  failure  of  the  wheat-crop,  and  the  consequent  distress 
and  starvation  of  all  who  could  not  buy  breadstuff's  of  the 
Stuccuppe  speculators  at  the  Stuccuppe  prices ;  and  a  part  of 
his  newly-acquired  wealth  was  invested  in  a  family  mansion 
built  to  order,  at  a  great  expense.  But  although  the  edifice 
was  showy  and  expensive  in  itself,  the  primal  object  in  its 
construction  being  to  overshadow  all  surrounding  mansions, 
the  great  pride  and  glory  of  the  Stuccuppe's  was  in  its  furni- 
ture and  appointments. 

The  mansion  was  a  large  square  mansion,  with  a  capacious 
round  hall  in  the  middle,  rising  from  a  marble  floor  on  the 
lower  story,  up  through  battlements  of  bannisters,  to  a  dome 
and  a  lantern  of  parti-colored  glass  in  the  roof.  There  were 
niches  in  the  walls,  inhabited  by  rich  marbles.  One  in  par- 
ticular, a  statue  of  Diana — or  according  to  Mr.  Sagory  St. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  353 

Julien  a  statute  of  Di'nah — stood  at  the  Load  of  the  first  flight 
of  stairs,  giving  one  at  the  first  glance  a  notion  of  a  young 
lady  awakened  in  the  night  by  a  cry  of  fire,  and  rushing  down 
stairs  in  very  inadequate  apparel. 

Opening  out  of  this  hall  in  various  directions  were  parlors, 
drawing-rooms,  a  library,  and  many  distracting  conveniences 
and  luxuries. 

In  the  parlors,  into  which  Jason  was  promptly  ushered  by 
the  attentive  Sagory  St.  Julien,  mirrors  were  the '  principal 
feature.  They  hung  between  the  windows,  they  stood  ir  ion 
the  mantle-shelves,  they  clung  to  the  walls.  Not  little  mirrors 
these,  by  which  to  give  one's  hair  the  finishing  touch,  but  hug  3 
sheets  of  glass  covering  whole  sections  of  wall,  and  multiply- 
ing people  in  a  manner  quite  delightful  to  gregarious  humani- 
ly ;  so  that  a  select  party  in  the  Stuccuppe  parlors  looked  like 
a  mass  meeting ;  and  a  solitary  caller,  Avhen  she  took  her  seat 
upon  the  sofa  to  await  the  answer  to  her  inquiry  whether  Mrs. 
Stuccuppe  were  in,  took  on  the  aspect  of  a  family  who  had 
come  in  to  spend  the  afternoon. 

These  mirrored  parlors  were  now  well  filled  with  gentlemen, 
taking  lessons  from  that  guardian  of  the  virtuous  morals  of 
young  men — Mixed  Society. 

Jason,  as  he  entered,  became  conscious  of  a  crowd,  a  rust- 
ling of  dresses,  a  loud  murmur  of  conversation,  much  laughter 
and  merriment,  and  some  clinking  of  plates  and  glasses.  He 
observed  that  he  bowed  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  ho 
was  quite  aware  of  becoming  part  and  parcel  of  the  confusion 
of  the  scene.  After  making  several  comprehensive  bows  to 
express  the  compliments  of  the  season  to  Mixed  Society  in 
general,  and  having  more  specifically  paid  his  respects  to  Mrs. 


354  COXE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Stuccuppe,  who  stood  in  state  between  the  windows  to  receive 
the  company,  then,  going  in  regular  order  around  the  room, 
the  first  person  he  addressed  was  Miss  Arabella  Stuccuppe. 
She  was  at  the  moment  conversing  with  a  gentleman ;  a 
young  gentleman  with  a  large  mustache  and  a  pair  of  legs 
like  bean-poles,  clothed  with  pantaloons  patterned  to  repre- 
sent the  climbing  vine.  Jason  wished  her  a  happy  new  year. 
So  he  said.  Miss  Arabella  turned  from  the  middle  of  a  humor- 
some  story  then  being  related  by  the  climbing-vine  pantaloons 
gentleman. 

"A  happy  new  year  to  you,  Mr.  Chesslebury,"  said  she. 
t:  I  am  glad  to  see  you  out  too,  this  year.  Do  you  know 
mother  and  I  got  into  quite  a  quarrel  about  you  this  morning  ? 
I  said  you  would  make  calls  this  year,  and  she  said  you  would 
not ;  and  really  we  had  quite  a  terrible  dispute  about  it  you 
know  for  so  little  a  matter.  For  ma  is  so  obstinate  when  she 
once  says  any  thing,  and  I  was  very  positive  you  would  come 
round  to  see  us,  at  least." 

This  with  much  smiling  and  nodding  of  the  head,  and  fold- 
ing and  unfolding  of  the  fan. 

"  No  !  but  rearly  though,"  said  the  climbing-vine  pantaloons 
gentleman,  coming  to  Jason's  rescue,  "  you  are  altogether  too 
hard  on  us,  when  you  deprive  us,  you  know,  of  the — a — 
rociety — a — of  the  deaw  ladies.  How  could  Ave  live  you 
know — a — without  them  ?" 

Jason  was  then  introduced  to  the  climbing-vine  pantaloons 
gentleman.  Of  course  neither  gentleman  understood  from 
Miss -Stuccuppe's  introduction,  which  was  after  the  most  ap- 
proved style  of  indistinctness,  what  the  other  gentleman's 
name  was.  They  were,  however,  mutually  charmed  to  make 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  355 

each  other's  acquaintance,  and  so  stated.  This  sentiment 
being  expressed,  conversation  was  at  a  stand  for  a  moment. 
Then  Jason  ventured  an  original  remark. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  day." 

"  Yes  ?"  said  Miss  Stuccuppe,  inquiringly.  "  I  really  have 
not  noticed.  You  gentlemen  appropriate  it  altogether  to 
yourselves  so.  It  is  too  bad  of  you.  Quite  -wicked." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  cliinbing-vine  pantaloons  gentleman,  with 
that  elegant  languor  of  tone,  known  in  less  refined  circles  as  a 
drawl,  "  rearly  a  beautiful  day.  Indeed — a — the  most  beau- 
tiful day  we  've  had  this  year — a — ha  !  ha  !  This  year  you 
know,  eh  ?  We  have  n't  had  any  other  day  this  year  you 
know.  Ha !  Ha !" 

Then  Jason  passed  on  to  make  room  for  a  new  comer,  and 
the  climbing-vine  pantaloons  gentleman  went  in  the  other 
direction,  to  repeat  his  joke,  always  received  with  enthusiastic 
applause.  As  they  passed  each  other,  Jason  had  a  conscious- 
ness of  being  very  careful  not  to  brush  against  him,  and  a 
sense  of  being  necessitated  to  walk  with  some  care,  and  he 
had  a  faint  idea  that  something  was  the  matter  with  his  legs, 
and  concluded  his  boots  were  too  small  for  him. 

Then  having  talked  with  some  ladies  who  would  not 
answer,  and  having  been  talked  to  by  some  ladies  who  would 
not  wait  to  hear  an  answer,  and  having  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  youngest  Miss  Stuccuppe,  who  had  traveled,  and  knew 
more  about  endogenous  vegetation  than  he  thought  he  was  in 
a  condition  to  understand,  and  having  at  last  somehow  or 
other  escaped  from  her, — he  had  an  idea  that  the  climbing- 
vine  pantaloons  gentleman  took  her  off  his  hands, — he  seemed 
finally  to  find  his  way  through  the  crowd,  picking  his  steps 


35C  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

carefully  toward  the  table.  Here  he  mingled  among  a  num- 
ber of  gentlemen  who  were  regaling  themselves,  and  talking 
rather  loud  between  mouthfuls.  And  here,  secure  in  the  pro- 
tection of  that  guardian  of  the  virtuous  morals  of  young 
men — Mixed  Society,  Jason  proceeded  without  fear  to  apply 
himself  to  the  business  of  making  a  good  meal. 

Here  he  thought  he  found  some  fellows  he  had  seen  before, 
who  did  not  seem  to  know  him,  and  some  fellows  who  looked 
at  him  as  if  they  knew  him,  whom  he  had  never  seen  before. 
He  took  care  to  recognize  them  all,  and  was  very  careful  not 
to  stumble  against  any  of  them,  nor  tread  on  any  one's  toes. 
He  came  very  near  interfering  with  the  equilibrium  of  sundry 
dishes,  in  passage  from  the  table,  but  by  great  care,  and  by 
fully  preconcerting  all  his  movements,  he  preserved  the 
strictest  decorum. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  things  went  about  as  it 
happened  at  the  table.  Jason  thought  he  was  making  a  very 
good  meal.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  succeeded  in  doing  so 
without  spilling  any  thing  of  any  consequence  either.  In 
fact,  nothing  ;  except,  on  the  table,  an  oyster,  which  he  had  a 
vague  impression  came  up  with  a  spoon ;  and  on  his  vest,  a 
wine-glass  of  port,  which  he  believed  came  off  with  his  hand- 
kerchief; and  on  the  carpet,  a  piece  of  Charlotte  Kusse,  which 
he  sent  under  the  table,  very  neatly,  as  he  fancied,  by  a  simple 
and  ingenious  movement  of  the  foot. 

Having  satisfied  his  present  appetite  with  some  pounds  of 
cure,  he  guarded  against  a  future  one  by  several  ounces  of 
sweet  preventions.  Then  with  a  consciousness  of  remarking 
(to  whom  it  might  concern,  as  it  were),  that  he  had  done  very 
well,  he  thought  he  took  another  glass  of  port,  to  replace  the 


CONECUTCORNEltS.  357 

one  that  had  gone  down  outside,  and  then,  if  he  were  not  mis- 
taken, he  turned  to  go  away. 

If  his  senses  did  not  deceive  him,  Jason  L.  Chesslebury  was 
having  a  capital  time. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Stuccuppe." 

He  thought  he  heard  Jason  L.  Chesslebury  say  this,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  that  gentleman  bowed  rather*handsomely 
to  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  house. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  said  she. 

He  was  quite  certain  Jason  L.  Chesslebury  heard  her. 

"  But  stop,"  she  cried,  and  he  was  conscious  of  her  overtak- 
ing Mr.  Chesslebury,  and  tapping  his  shoulder  with  her  fan. 
"  You  have  n't  taken  any  refreshments." 

"  Why,  really ;  I — I — quite  the  contrary,  I  assure  you." 

He  had  the  impression  that  Mr.  Chesslebury  made  some 
such  answer  as  this. 

"  But  will  you  not  take  a  glass  of  wine  ?" 

He  had  an  idea  that  Jason  L.  Chesslebury  said,  "  I  thank 
you ;"  but  whether  assenting  or  declining,  he  did  not  clearly 
understand. 

"  Oh,  yes  !"  cried  the  young  lady. 

Then  he  observed  that  with  most  bewitching  boldness  she 
took  Mr.  Jason  L.  Chesslebury's  arm,  and  they  walked  away 
from  the  door. 

"  Mr.  Chesslebury  you  will  pardon  me  I  know  for  being  so 
neglectful,  but  you  see  just  how  it  is.  There  is  such  a  crowd 
of  these  people,  and  you  know  every  one  must  be  attended  to. 
But  some  of  them  are  so  stupid.  They  are  'slow 'as  you 
gentlemen  say.  Do  you  know  I  think  you  gentlemen  have  a 
great  many  capital  words  for  such  things,  Mr.  Chesslebury?" 


358  COXECUTCORNEHS. 

He  was  quite  sure  Miss  Stuccuppe  said  all  this  to  Jason  L. 
Chesslebury,  and  he  wondered  whether  that  gentleman  under- 
stood it.  He  also  thought  that  the  lady  raised  her  glass  and 
that  Mr.  Chesslebuiy  did  too.  And  he  rather  wondered  at 
him  for  drinking  any  more  wine. 

"  There  's  poor  old  Dr.  Hummer,"  continued  Miss  Stuccuppe, 
animatedly ;"  do  look  at  him  now.  Did  you  ever  see  any 
thing  so  stupid  ?" 

There  he  stood.  Poor  old  Dr.  Hummer  was  a  rich  middle 
aged  man.  A  physician  by  profession,  but  a  very  harmless 
man,  for  he  never  practiced.  He  had  spent  the  best  years  of 
his  life  in  bachelorhood,  but  now  it  was  commonly  reported 
that  he  was  seeking  an  investment  for  the  rest  of  his  days  in 
the  bonds  and  mortgages  of  wedlock.  He  was  a  very  sensi- 
ble person,  considering  how  he  had  been  brought  up ;  still  he 
had  admission  into  the  Stuccuppe  circle  by  virtue  of  the  con- 
siderations above-named.  He  was  not  usually  inclined  to 
avail  himself  of  the  pleasures  of  this  society ;  but  now  impel- 
led perhaps  by  curiosity,  perhaps  by  more  important  motives, 
he  had  set  himself  upon  a  round  of  calls.  At  this  moment 
he  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  balanced  in  uncertainty. 
He  looked  as  if  he  were  growing  old  as  he  stood. 

"  He  counts,  let  me  see,  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  how  many," 
cried  Miss  Stuccuppe.  "  How  many  do  you  think  we  had  at 
three  o'clock  Mr.  Chesslebury  ?  I  counted  the  names  at 
three." 

He  imagined  that  Mr.  Chesslebury  intended  to  say,  "  I  am 
sure  I  don't  know,"  but  he  did  not  understand  him  to  say  it 
very  distinctly. 

"  Why,  my  dear  Dr.  Hummer,"  cried  the  young  lady,  as 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  359 

that  gentleman  approached  Miss  Stuccuppe  as  affording  the 
most  favorable  opening  for  him  to  enter  into  conversation. 
"Why!  where  have  you  kept  yourself?  You're  a  great 
stranger." 

It  then  appeared  to  Jason,  that  Miss  Stuccuppe  left  Mr. 
Jason  L.  Chesslebury,  to  speak  to  Dr.  Hummer,  and  that  Mr. 
Jason  L.  Chesslebury  turned  to  go  out,  but  did  not  seem  to 
know  the  Avay,  for  the  door,  which  he  pulled  at  in  vain,  in  the 
endeavor  to  open,  would  not  move,  and  the  people  in  that 
part  of  the  room  turned  and  seemed,  as  he  thought,  very 
much  surprised  that  it  would  not ;  until  he  thought  he  heard 
somebody  say  that  that  was  the  wrong  door.  Somebody 
making  himself  very  officious  in  attempting  to  set  Mr.  Chessle- 
bury right,  he  perceived  that  that  gentleman  was  annoyed, 
and  heard  him  remonstrate  at  being  interfered  with. 

At  last  he  noticed  that  Jason  L.  Chesslebury  was  upon  the 
front  door-step;  and  also  observed  that  the  street  ran  the 
wrong  way. 

Upon  the  side-walk,  he  perceived  that  Mr.  Chesslebury  next 
was,  and  that  he  there  met  two  gentlemen,  arm  in  arm.  Ho 
noticed  very  particularly  that  Mr.  Chesslebury  was  extremely 
careful  to  turn  out  widely  for  them,  and  that  he  went  right 
between  them. 

Then  pretty  soon  he  thought  he  heard  Jason  L.  Chessle- 
bury at  home,  telling  his  sister  that  he  was  all  right.  He  re- 
monstrated with  him  for  saying  so,  but  to  no  effect.  Then  his 
bed-room  came  down  stairs,  and  he  helped  to  put  Jason  to 
bed,  and  they  both  went  to  sleep  together. 

It  was  in  his  own   familiar  room  at  home,  and  beneath  a 


360  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

Sabbath  atmosphere  and  light,  that  Jason  awoke  upon  the 
next  morning.  And  as  he  slowly  struggled  into  conscious- 
ness, and  the  recollection  of  the  experiences  of  New  Year's- 
day  came  at  length  distinctly  to  him,  he  felt  bitterly  the  need 
of  some  higher  protection  from  the  temptations  of  life,  than  he 
had  enjoyed  while  under  the  guidance  of  that  renowned  guar- 
dian of  the  virtuous  morals  of  young  men — Mixed  Society. 


XXVIII 

MAT,   1854. 


SALANDA  took  some 
interest  in  politics. 

Of  course  she  did 
not  understand  the 
subject ;  of  course, 
being  a  woman,  she 
was  quite  incapable 

of  that.  Of  course  her  gentle,  sensitive,  noble  nature  was 
altogether  too  refined  and  delicate  to  take  any  part  in  the  low, 
and  as  times  go  now,  one  might  almost  say,  the  vulgar  sphere 
of  statesmanship.  But  notwithstanding  these  undeniable 
facts,  Salanda  did  take  an  interest  in  politics. 

It  is  not  probable  that  she  would  ever  have  turned  her  at- 
tention to  such  matters,  if  it  had  not  been  that  certain  mis- 
guided and  senseless  persons,  urged  on  by  a  desire  for  an  un- 
enviable distinction,  and  by  an  unscrupulous  love  of  power, 
and  followed  blindly  by  a  crowd  of  partizan  tools,  made,  per- 
force, a  political  platform  out  of  planks  which  had  always 
16 


362  OONE     CUT    CO-RKERS- 

theretofore  been  considered  as  merely  domestic,  or  perhaps 
moral,  or  at  the  very  furthest,  religious  timber ;  and  which 
.were,  moreover,  far  too  weak  to  be  of  service  in  the  construc- 
tion of  a  political  edifice.  For  there  were  at  that  time  poli- 
ticians who  were  so  devoid  of  political  principles  as  to  adopt 
moral  ones ;  and  those  too,  of  the  most  fanatical  kind. 

Thus  it  happened  that  a  few  members  of  the  Legislature — 
absolutely  a  mere  handful, — taking  a  most  unconscionable  ad- 
vantage of  their  power  as  a  minority,  to  tyrannize  over  the 
helpless  majority,  brought  forward  a  bill  which  contained,  in 
effect,  but  a  repetition  of  the  odious  provisions  of  the  Maine 
law.  A  bill  which  was,  in  the  judgment  of  all  reasonable  and 
conservative  men,  an  outrage  upon  the  rights  of  the  communi- 
ty. A  bill  which  violated  the  constitution  which  these  very 
men  had  sworn  to  support.  A  bill  which  proposed  to  legalize 
the  invasion  of  the  houses  and  homes  of  citizens  throughout 
the  State.  A  bill  whose  direct  effect  it  was  to  cut  off  a  vast 
branch  of  commerce  and  manufactures,  upon  the  leaves  of 
which  hundreds  of  most  worthy  and  respectable  caterpillars 
were  feeding  and  growing  fat.  A  bill  which  contemplated 
the  commission  of  plunder,  and  the  destruction  of  property 
under  the  guise  of  law.  A  bill  which,  throughout  the  com- 
monwealth, would  turn  loafers  and  vagabonds  out  of  their 
only  employment.  A  bill  which  denied  and  trampled  upon 
the  natural  right  of  every  man  to  engage  in  the  business  of 
his  choice.  A  bill  so  repulsive  to  the  universal  moral  sense  of 
the  community,  that  even  if  it  became  a  law,  it  was  not  possi- 
ble that  it  should  ever  be  enforced. 

And  therefore,  one  would  suppose,  it  could  never  do  any  of 
these  dreadful  things  after  all 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  363 

It  was  for  such  objects  as  these  that  the  tyrannical  minori- 
ty labored  most  obstinately.  It  was  for  the  passage  of  such 
a  law  as  this  that  they  worked  unceasingly. 

All  sensible,  sober-minded,  and  unprejudiced  men  in  Cone 
Cut  Corners,  including  of  course,  the  ex-deacon  and  Gregory 
^Donoe,  were  opposed  from  the  start,  to  any  such  iniquity. 
The  discussion  arose  very  gradually  in  Cone  Cut.  But  like 
sharp-sighted,  forecasting  men  that  they  were,  the  conserva- 
tives of  that  village  saw  the  contest  approaching,  and  their  op- 
position to  the  measure  advocated  by  the  tyrannical  minority, 
was,  from  the  first,  consistent,  zealous,  and  unremitting. 

After  one  or  two  preliminary  failures  incurred  by  the  tyran- 
nical minority,  the  time  approached  at  which  it  was  expected 
the  struggle  would  be  decided.  As  the  crisis  advanced,  both 
sides  fortified  themselves  for  the  contest.  The  town  was  filled 
with  excitement.  No  wonder  that  the  question  at  issue  en- 
listed the  attention  of  Salanda. 

The  discussion  of  the  proposed  law,  in  Cone  Cut  Corners  com- 
menced in  Gregory  Donoe's  store,  the  disputants  taking  sides 
upon  the  negative  unanimously.  Thence  it  spread  into  the 
other  stores  of  the  village,  the  post-office,  the  academy  recess, 
the  workshops,  and  even  into  the  town  meeting.  For  the  in- 
stigators of  the  evil  were  determined  to  make  the  question  a 
political  question.  Not  all  the  remonstrances  of  the  good  and 
wise  men  of  Cone  Cut  could  prevent  this.  It  was  urged  again 
and  again  that  temperance  was  not  a  proper  subject  of  politi- 
cal excitement  or  of  legislation  ; — that  it  was  a  duty  of  moral 
obligation  merely; — that  it  ought  to  be  recommended  by 
moral  considerations  and  suasions  solely,  and  enforced  only 
by  religious  sanctions,  and  not  to  be  commanded  by  statutes 


364  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

or  compelled  by  penalties.  That  it  was  the  province  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  not  of  Law  to  make  men  temperate. 

But  notwithstanding  the  self-evident  force  and  soundness 
of  these  views,  the  fanatics  insisted  upon  degrading  temper- 
ance to  the  level  of  politics.  And  as  it  gradually  became  ap- 
parent that  temperance  could  and  would  be  made  a  political 
question,  and  that  too  with  very  considerable  advantage,  the 
conservatives,  with  that  candid  submission  which  distinguishes 
an  honorable  opponent,  and  that  versatility  of  talent  which  is 
so  essential  to  the  character  of  an  able  statesman,  turned  to, 
and  rivaled  the  fanatics  themselves,  in  making  political  cap- 
ital out  of  temperance.  &• 

But  even  this  success  did  not  satisfy  the  radical  disorgan- 
izes. They  would  not  consent  to  leave  the  moral  and  relig- 
ious bearings  of  temperance  out  of  sight  in  the  discussion. 
They  would  persist  in  still  treating  the  subject  as  a  religious 
one.  They  even  insisted  upon  introducing  this  question  of 
mere  party  politics  into  the  church.  The  conservatives,  who 
were  not  willing  that  temperance  should  be  dragged  into  the 
pulpit,  where  Paul  put  it,  between  righteousness  and  the  judg- 
ment to  come,  but  rather  concurred  with  Felix  that  it  ought 
to  be  deferred  to  a  more  convenient  season,  remonstrated ; 
but  party  politics  would  go  in. 

Elder  Graynes  insisted  on  agitating  the  theme,  and  at  even- 
ing lectures,  and  even  once  or  twice  in  public  service  on  the 
Sabbath,  earnestly  urged  his  church  to  the  performance  of 
their  duty  as  Christian  men,  in  reference  to  this  important 
subject.  Ex-deacon  Ficksom  warned  the  good  pastor,  both  in 
public  and  in  private,  against  the  evils  of  expecting  the  church 
to  take  any  active  position  upon  questions  of  social  reform. 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  365 

and  he  conclusively  showed  that  religion  was  never  intended 
to  interfere  with  the  business  of  men,  nor  with  their  relations 
in  society.  But  to  the  ex-deacon's  warning  Elder  Graynes 
was  quite  deaf. 

Mr.  Donoe  cried  out  also.  Mr.  Donoe  was  not  strictly  a 
religious  man,  but  he  was  a  very  respectable  man,  and  a 
very  correct  man ;  and  although  not  a  professor,  he  was  a 
prominent  member  of  the  society  in  his  way,  and  in  a  certain 
sense  a  valuable  one  ;  for  he  held  a  good  pew,  which  he  paid 
for,  but  seldom  occupied  to  the  exclusion  of  other  people. 
And  Mr.  Donoe  said  that  he  could  not  with  profit  listen  to 
any  thing  but  doctrinal  preaching;  and  that  if  politics — 
meaning  thereby  temperance — were  to  be  lugged  into  the 
pulpit,  he  must  withdraw  from  the  society. 

But  Elder  Graynes  was  obstinate  ;  and  as  might  have  been 
predicted,  the  results  which  were  foretold  by  the  conserva- 
tives as  the  natural  consequences  of  his  course,  actually  came 
to  pass:  It  is  true  that  a  numerical  majority  of  his  parish 
approved  his  course  and  supported  him  in  it ;  and  more  than 
that,  evinced  a  purpose  to  walk  in  the  path  which  he  pointed 
out  for  them.  But  the  ex-deacon  withdrew  from  the  church, 
and  the  storekeeper  abandoned  his  pew  and  discontinued  his 
subscription  ;  and  some  others  of  the  flock,  who  were  equally 
aggrieved,  felt  greatly  scandalized.  Their  religion,  which  had 
always  been  of  the  most  delicate  and  refined  nature,  and  ex- 
ercised itself  much  more  in  sorrowing  for  the  sins  of  other 
people  than  in  penitence  for  their  own,  shrunk  like  a  moral 
sensitive-plant,  from  rude  collision  with  such  worldly  topics 
as  the  cause  of  temperance,  and  from  such  perversion  of  re- 
ligious truth  as  was  attempted  by  Elder  Graynes.  And  as 


366  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

they  found  devotion  declining,  they  silently,  and  one  by  one, 
dropped  off. 

These  were  not  many,  but  considering  what  class  of  people 
they  were,  it  was  a  great  loss  to  the  spiritual  strength  of  the 
congregation. 

But  notwithstanding  all  that  opposition  could  do,  the  in- 
fatuation gained  ground,  not  only  in  Cone  Cut  Corners,  but 
throughout  the  State,  and  the  tyrannical  minority  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  bringing  about  in  the  Legislature  the  enactment  of 
the  bill  for  which  they  had  labored. 

The  field  was,  however,  not  all  their  own  yet.  For  the 
governor,  who  was  a  temperate-minded  man,  one  of  the  "ju- 
dicious friends  of  temperance,"  whose  friendship,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  was  not  sufficiently  valued,  deprecated  such  legislation. 
He  had  not  as  yet  even  assented  that  temperance  should  be 
made  a  party  question ;  much  less  was  he  prepared  to  ap- 
prove so  stringent  a  measure.  He  accordingly  returned  the 

bill  to  the  Legislature  with  his  constitutional  objections,  ap- 

"*VT 
pealed  to  unprejudiced  and  moderate  men  throughout  the 

State  for  support  in  this  unpopular  position,  and  had  his 
name  put  up  for  a  reelection. 

As,  however,  the  progress  of  the  next  canvass  showed  that 
there  were  not  so  many  judicious  friends  of  temperance  in  the 
State  as  was  supposed,  the  cause  was  run  away  with  by  the 
injudicious,  the  governor  was  dropped  out,  and  the  tyrannical 
minority  largely  reenforced,  were  returned  to  renew  their  un- 
constitutional schemes  in  the  Legislature. 

It  could  hardly  be  expected  that  the  simple  love  of  the 
public  good  could  prompt  the  ex-deacon  and  the  storekeeper, 
and  the  party  with  which  they  were  connected,  to  more  stren- 


CONE     CTJT     CORNERS.  367 

nous  efforts  than  those  already  made.  Nevertheless,  they  did 
not  yet  give  up  the  contest  They  had  an  honest  zeal  for  the 
great  interests,  moral  and  material,  of  the  community,  and  for 
those  fundamental  principles  of  personal  liberty  which  were 
about  to  be  violated.  They  felt,  moreover,  a  calm  and  dis- 
passionate attachment  to  the  cause  of  temperance,  which  they 
said  such  ultra  and  violent  measures  would  overwhelm,  and 
bury  in  a  re-action  of  popular  contempt.  Acting  under  the 
influence  of  these  elevated  and  noble  principles,  they  resisted 
the  progress  of  fanaticism  to  the  last. 

The  injudicious,  reckless,  and  misguided  friends  of  tem- 
perance, had  held  several  meetings  in  the  town  during  the 
progress  of  the  discussion.  These  gatherings  were  largely 
attended  by  well-meaning,  but  ill-judging  men,  who  had  not 
the  foresight  to  enable  them  to  anticipate  the  baneful  "in- 
fluence which  the  measures  proposed,  must  undoubtedly  have 
upon  the  industry  and  commerce  of  the  State,  and  the  wel- 
fare of  its  citizens.  And  as,  at  these  meetings  misdirected 
eloquence  had  exerted  itself  to  arouse  the  feelings  of  the 
people ;  and  as  religion,  betrayed  into  fanaticism,  had  lent  its 
countenance  to  their  objects ;  and  as  politicians,  leaving  their 
own  proper  sphere,  had  come  in  and  given  the  stimulus  of 
their  meddling,  they  had  been  very  successful.  By  means  of 
them,  and  the  excitement  which  they  created  and  fostered, 
the  public  at  large  were,  as  ex-deacon  Ficksom  said,  led 
entirely  by  their  noses.  Laying  aside  common  sense,  and 
respect  for  the  rights  of  their  opponents,  they  had  caught  up 
the  cry  of  prohibition. 

Therefore,  at  the  present  stage  of  the  contest,  the  store- 
keeper thought  it  was  time  that  a  mass-meeting  of  the 


368  CONE     CUT     COKXERS. 

conservative  party  should  be  held,  for  the  purpose  of  rallying 
opposition  to  the  new  schemes  of  the  reformers,  before  it  was 
too  late.  For  hitherto  the  judicious  friends  had  held  no  pub- 
lic gathering  in  the  town.  This  was  partly,  perhaps,  by 
reason  of  their  innate  confidence  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
their  cause,  and  partly  by  reason  of  their  being  just  the 
sort  of  people  they  were,  plain  men,  men  of  few  words,  not 
much  given  to  ranting  in  public,  and  fonder  of  quiet  discus- 
sions in  the  social  circles  of  stores  and  bar-rooms,  than  of 
harangues  and  set  orations  in  public  assemblies. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  high  time,  Mr.  Gregory  Donoe  said, 
that  the  community  should  come  forward  and  let  it  be  under- 
stood that  fanatics  were  not  the  only  people  in  the  world,  if 
they  were  making  such  a  row. 

In  this  view  the  ex-deacon  concurred ;  and  after  many  con- 
sultations and  deliberations  between  themselves,  and  with  the 
judicious  friends  of  temperance  at  large,  a  plan  was  matured 
for  a  mass-meeting  of  the  community  in  general,  and  the  pro- 
mulgation of  a  universal  protest  against  prohibition,  moral- 
politics,  political-religion,  and  unconstitutional  legislation. 

This  demonstration  was  announced  by  a  powerfully-written 
and  economically-printed  hand-bill,  which  called  upon  the 
community  to  come  forth,  and  up-rise  in  their  might. 

This  handbill  was  the  masterpiece  of  its  composer,  and  was 
executed  by  the  Cone  Cut  printer  in  the  highest  style  of  art. 
It  commenced  with  the  cry,  uttered  in  trumpet  tones — that  is 
to  say,  in  double-sized  capitals — "  CITIZENS  TO  THE  RESCUE." 
It  then  proceeded  in  clarion  notes — viz.,  in  clear  fine  type,  to 
warn  such  citizens  as  it  might  concern,  that  their  liberties 
were  in  danger,  and  that  a  mass-meeting  of  all  persons 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  369 

interested,  "  without  distinction  of  party," — here  the  clarion 
broke  out  into  the  trumpet  again,  for  a  moment — would 
be  held  at  a  specified  time  and  place,  to  devise  measures 
of  self-protection.  It  then  proceeded  to  state,  by  way  of  at 
once  arousing  and  satisfying  the  anticipations  of  the  awakened 
citizens,  that  their  esteemed  fellow-townsmen,  Ezekiel  Fick- 
som  and  Esquire  Blote,  (who  was  one  of  the  staunchest  of 
•the  judicious  friends  of  temperance,  and  was  moreover  a 
valued  customer  of  Gregory  Donoe,)  would  be  among  the 
speakers,  and  it  further  stimulated  curiosity  by  the  somewhat 
vague  insinuation  that  distinguished  speakers  from  abroad 
had  been  invited,  and  were  expected  to  be  present.  The 
grounds  for  the  latter  announcement  were,  that  Esquire  Blote, 
as  a  self-appointed  committee  of  one,  had  privately  ridden 
abroad  to  call  upon  the  said  distinguished  speakers,  and  had, 
with  much  skill  and  diplomacy,  and  indirection  of  language, 
put  to  them  the  question,  whether  they  would,  without 
charge  or  expense  to  the  citizens,  attend  the  proposed  rescue, 
and  lend  the  weight  of  their  influence  and  distinguished 
presence — so  said  the  committee  of  one — to  the  movement. 
The  distinguished  speakers  having  severally,  and  each  for 
himself,  replied  that  they  would  not — the  committee  of  one  had 
returned  and  reported  progress.  But  there  was  not  room,  of 
course,  for  all  this  explanation  in  the  hand-bill,  which  now,  with 
its  last  breath,  gave  one  convulsive  shriek — in  intoxicated 
capitals,  italicised — "  LIBERTY?  and  at  this  crisis  of  typogra- 
phy, expired,  sky-rocket  like,  in  a  flash  of  six  distinct 
exclamation  points. 

This  handbill  was  distributed  throughout  the  town  by  a 
sincerely  judicious  though  impoverished  friend  of  temper- 
16* 


370  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

ance,  who,  for  a  small  consideration,  payable  chiefly  in  the 
product  of  one  of  our  most  ^important  branches  of  manufac- 
ture, at  Gregory  Donoe's  counter,  left  a  copy  with  a  few  words 
of  explanation  at  the  door  of  every  family  supposed  to  be  yet 
open  to  conviction  upon  the  subject  of  being  rescued ;  and 
who  further  took  the  trouble,  voluntarily,  and  from  the  love 
he  bore  the  cause,  to  exhibit  it  with  hortatory  remarks,  to 
each  passer-by  whom  he  met  in  the  street  while  on  his  way.  . 

In  all  these  proceedings — except  the  handbill — Salanda 
took  a  deep  interest.  It  was  undoubtedly  to  be  regretted  as 
one  of  the  innate  defects  of  her  character,  or  as  a  result  of  her 
imperfect  education  in  the  duties  of  woman,  that  a  question 
so  much  affecting  public  affairs  should  occupy  her  thoughts, 
and  that  she  should  endeavor  to  inform  herself  fully  of  its 
merits,  and  half  wish  sometimes  that  she  had  a  right  to  do  or 
say  something,  she  scarcely  knew  what,  upon  a  theme  which 
affected  her  interests,  and  came  home  to  her  personal  welfare, 
as  did  this. 

But  then  it  is  to  be  recollected  in  excuse  for  this  unfeminine 
thought,  that  Salanda  had  never  had  those  advantages  of  re- 
-fined  culture  enjoyed  by  more  favored  young  ladies  who  are 
early  taught  the  proper  limits  of  their  intellectual  powers,  and 
are  instructed  from  the  outset  of  life  to  devote  their  gentle 
abilities  to  more  appropriate  purposes.  And  if  Salanda  did  so 
far  go  out  of  her  sphere  as  to  form  an  opinion,  and  a  decided 
one  too,  (we  will  by  no  means  disguise  the  truth  in  her  favor), 
upon  a  political  subject,  and  if  she  did  so  far  neglect  her 
duties  to  her  father  and  his  home,  as  to  read  what  she  could 
of  the  history  of  prohibition,  and  if  she  did  long,  oh !  unwo- 
manly desire,  to  lend  her  aid  to  protect  her  father  even  from 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  371 

his  constitutional  liberties,  let  us  plead  for  her,  the  ignorance 
in  which  she  had  been  brought  up,  and  the  entire  absence  in 
her  case,  of  those  fortunate  social  conditions  which  interpret 
to  the  fashionable  ladies  of  the  metropolis  their  true  sphere. 

We  can  not  deny,  and  we  will  not  disguise  the  fact  that  Sa- 
landa  did  form  an  opinion  upon  the  subject  then  prominent  in 
the  public  thoughts.  More  than  this.  Being,  as  a  woman  of 
course  would  be,  (nothing  better  could  have  been  expected  of 
her,)  quite  carried  away  by  her  feelings,  and  her  own  personal 
knowledge  of  the  practical  bearings  of  prohibition  upon  the 
narrow  circle  in  which  she  dwelt,  she  took  no  broad,  compre- 
hensive views  of  the  abstract  considerations  upon  which  the 
question  ought  to  have  been  settled,  but  summarily  disposed 
of  it  by  a  mere  instinctive  sense  of  what  she  wished  might 
come  to  pass. 

Thus  she  was  not  able  to  weigh  aright  the  importance  of 
preserving  and  promoting  the  prosperity  of  the  industrial  in- 
terests of  the  State  ;  she  only  wished  that  in  some  way  her 
father  might  be  made  more  industrious. 

She  did  not  consider  the  inalienable  rights  of  commerce 
under  the  Constitution  ;  she  only  thought  that  Gregory  Donoe 
ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  sell  liquor  to  her  father. 

She  did  not  think  of  the  impropriety  of  such  legislation  on 
the  part  of  a  State  as  should  cut  down  the  revenues  of  the 
Federal  Government ;  she  only  dreaded  that  her  father  might 
come  upon  the  town. 

She  did  not  reflect  upon  the  injustice  of  taking  and  destroy- 
ing without  compensation  the  private  property  of  the  citizen ; 
she  only  wished  that  the  little  remaining  property  of  her  father 
might  be  preserved  to  him. 


372  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

She  forgot  the  indubitable  right  of  every  man  to  sell  what- 
ever he  might  choose ;  she  only  hoped  that  some  day  it  might 
no  longer  be  in  her  father's  power  to  buy  what  tempted  him 
beyond  his  power  of  resistance. 

She  did  not  bear  in  mind  the  principle  that  every  man's 
house  is  his  castle ;  she  only  longed  to  have  it  possible  that 
she  should  make  her  father's  house  his  home. 

She  did  not  understand  the  intrinsic  absurdity  of  sumptu- 
ary laws ;  she  only  prayed  that  something  might  stand  be- 
tween her  father  and  his  appetite. 

In  short  it  was  not  possible  for  her  to  examine  the  subject, 
as  a  judicious  friend  of  temperance  should,  in  the  abstract, 
and  taking  into  consideration  its  broad  and  general  bearings, 
because  she  knew  all  about  it  in  its  particulars.  Thus  preju- 
diced, her  opinion  was  entitled  to  but  little  weight,  since  it 
could  not  be  the  cool,  calm,  dispassionate,  sober,  prudent,  con- 
siderate, conservative  sentiment,  which  marks  the  truly  judi- 
cious friend  of  the  cause. 

As  for  the  Captain,  her  father,  he  did  not  define  his  position 
very  clearly,  at  least  not  in  words.  In  his  capacity  as  fixture 
and  ornament  in  Gregory's  store,  he  heard  the  current  of  dis- 
cussion upon  the  subject,  and  was  always  ready  to  drink  suc- 
cess to  the  conservatives  at  the  expense  of  any  of  them  who 
might  be  disposed  to  invite  him  so  to  do,  but  further  than 
this  he  did  not  pledge  himself.  Yet  he  took  great  interest  in 
the  contest,  and  watched  its  progress  with  silent  attention. 

The  evening  before  the  dav  appointed  for  the  assembling 
of  that  mass-meeting  to  which  the  community  were  to  come 
forth,  and  by  which  the  invaders  of  liberty  were  to  be  frowned 
down,  at  length  arrived. 


COKE     CUT     CORNERS.  373 

By  the  sitting-room  window  of  her  father's  house,  Salanda 
sat,  looking  mournfully  out  upon  the  lengthening  shadows, 
the  fading  light  and  the  setting  sun.  That  couch  of  western 
cloud  on  which  the  weary  Light-bearer  flung  himself  to  rest, 
betokened  some  sprinkling  on  the  morrow  of  an  element 
which  the  judicious  friends  of  temperance  would  not  care 
for. 

Salanda  had  faithfully  finished  the  duties  of  the  day.  Her 
slender  arms  had  anticipated  her  father's  unsteady  ones,  in 
bringing  in  the  wood,  and  in  performing  other  services  too 
laborious  in  truth  for  her  powers.  Tea,  long  since  ready,  now 
stood  cold  and  untouched  upon  the  table.  And  still  Salanda 
sat  at  the  window,  looking  out  into  the  gathering  darkness, 
and  taking  sad  pleasure  there,  congenial  to  her  feelings.  And 
still  she  sat,  awaiting  her  father's  long  delayed  return  from 
the  village. 

She  was  almost  disheartened.  From  wishing  with  a  wish 
which  was  repeated  almost  every  night,  that  he  would  come, 
and  trying  to  devise  some  new  attraction  that  might  keep  him 
at  home,  to  find  some  avenue  as  yet  untried,  through  which 
she  might  reach  his  heart,  and  win  him  to  an  alteration  in  his 
course — from  half  fearing  that  she  should  never  learn  how  to 
be  a  daughter  to  him,  and  fill  aright  a  place  as  yet  so  new  to 
her,  yet  without  a  single  regret  that  she  had  undertaken  such 
a  weary  task — from  thus  sadly  thinking  upon  her  father  as  he 
was  now,  her  thoughts  ran  back  to  the  night  when  she  had 
claimed  him  as  a  parent ;  when  he  had  acknowledged  her  as 
a  daughter.  In  retrospect  she  again  contested  with  Aunt 
Provy,  who  insisted  that  she  should  not  leave  her  to  dwell 
with  him.  She  recalled  how,  without  faltering  or  regret  she 


3"74  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

had  triumphed  over  Aunt  Provy's  resistance  and  Calick's  re- 
monstrances, and  had  made  her  father's  home,  though  poor 
now,  and  meager,  her  own. 

In  all  her  sadness  she  thought  with  tearful  pleasure  on  the 
change.  And  though  the  future  was  bright  there,  and  dark 
here,  she  was  still  glad  that  she  had  come  to  him  because  he 
was  in  trouble  and  alone.  Wiping  her  eyes  she  cheered  her- 
self with  the  hope  that  some  happy  change  was  still  in  store 
for  him.  Yet  happy  or  wretched,  so  long  as  he  would  own 
her  for  a  daughter,  so  long  the  labor  of  her  life  should  be  to 
fill  a  daughter's  place  to  him. 

And  thence  her  thoughts  recurring  to  that  memorable 
evening,  she  recalled  its  earlier  scenes ;  the  walk  upon  the 
valley  road  before  the  sun  had  quite  gone  down ;  and  Jason's 
words  to  her,  and  her's  to  him.  It  was  more  than  a  year  ago. 
She  wondered  where  Jason  was,  now.  The  tears  came  again 
to  her  eyes.  Had  she  been  in  any  wise  too  hasty,  or  too  per- 
sistent ?  Why  had  she  repulsed  the  one  when  he  was  in  dan- 
ger, and  clung  to  the  other  when  he  was  overwhelmed1?  It 
was  the  question  of  an  instant,  and  as  instantly  answered. 
She  cherished  no  sorrow  for  the  past,  and  accepted  the  doubt- 
ful future  as  a  chosen  though  a  sad  and  solitary  path. 

She  heard  a  step  in  the  yard.  It  was  not  her  father's,  she 
was  sure  of  that  Hastening  to  the  door,  she  met  Calick. 

"  Have  you  seen —  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Calick. 

There  was  a  silence. 

"  I  came  up,"  said  Calick,  "  to  bring  you  a  letter." 

"A  letter!" 

"  Yes." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  3*75 

Calick  took  off  his  cap,  and  produced  the  letter  from  the 
lining.  '  -~  -< 

"  I  hope  he 's  doin'  well,"  he  added. 

Salanda  looked  at  the  superscription. 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  "  from  Jason." 

Calick  turned  to  go  away. 

"  Don't  go,  Calick.  Won't  you  come  in  ?"  interposed  Sa- 
landa. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  saict  he ;  "  it 's  late." 

"  I  can't  think  why  father  don't  come  home,"  said  Salanda, 
looking  down  the  road. 

It  was  a  filial  fiction,  for  she  knew  why.     So  did  Calick. 

"  I  'm  afeared  it 's  lonesome  for  you,"  said  he.  "  I  Ve 
thought  of  it  often.  I  'd  like  to  stop,  but  perhaps  I  'd  better 
be  a  goin'  down.  I  may  meet  him." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Salanda. 

"  I  '11  try  and  find  him,"  said  Calick. 

"  Oh,  please  do !"  said  Salanda,  earnestly.  "  You  're  very 
kind.  Just  like  yourself." 

"IVe  been  a  thinkin',"  said  Calick,  speaking  again  after 
some  hesitation,  "  that  you  need  somebody  or  somebody  else 
on  the  place  again  here  sometimes,  to  do  chores  and  such. 
Things  needs  a  little  fixin'  here  and  there." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Salanda,  "  I  wish  we  could  have  things  in 
better  order.  I  do  all  I  can,  but  that  does  n't  go  a  great 
way." 

"  The  spring  work,  too ;  it 's  time  it  was  done  now,  anyways. 
I  Ve  got  through  the  most  of  our  'n  down  home." 

"  Yes,"  said  Salanda,  mournfully. 

"And  I  didn't  know,"  continued  Calick,  interrogatively, 


3*76  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

"  but  you  bein'  lonesome,  and  all,  it  might  be  some  use  to 
you,  for  me  to  come  up  and  stop  a  while ;  that  is  if  he 
would  n't  say  anythin'  again'  it  ?" 

"  Thank  you,"  responded  Salanda ;  "  thank  you  very  much, 
very  much  indeed.  I  wish  it  would  do." 

"  He  would  n't  like  ?"  asked  Calick. 

"  He 's  very  strange  about  some  things,"  said  Salanda, 
gently.  "  I  do  not  speak  of  you  to  him ;  he  is —  I  don't 
mind  it  at  all  myself,  but  he  is  very  strange  sometimes,  and 
he  would  n't  like  it.  I  don't  mind  what  he  says  myself,"  she 
continued,  "  believe  me,  Calick,  /  don't  think  •  any  different 
for  it,  but  it  would  n't  do.  It  would  n't  do  for  you  to  be  here. 
It  would  only  make  him  feel  the  worse." 

Calick  was  silent. 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  he,  at  last,  "I  came  up  to  say  this. 
Aunt  Provy  was  a  goin'  to  bring  the  letter,  but  I  told  her  I 
wanted  to  come  myself.  I  'm  sorry,  for  you  must  be  lone- 
some, and  I  'd  be  glad  to  be  of  use." 

"  I  'm  very  sorry,"  said  Salanda ;  "  I  hope  it  will  be  different 
one  of  these  dap.  I  'm  very  grateful  to  you,  I  hope  he  will 
come  to  thank  you  yet  for  all  your  kindness." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Calick,  and  he  turned  away. 

As  he  disappeared,  Salanda  felt  as  if  distance  was  grad- 
ually intervening  between  her  and  all  her  friends.  She  sat 
down  again  in  the  dark  sitting-room,  and  had  no  other 
hope  to  comfort  her,  but  that  her  father  returning  home, 
might  bring  no  more  than  usual  of  disgrace. 

In  these  thoughts  she  at  first  forgot  Jason's  letter.  Recol- 
lecting it,  she  went  to  the  fireplace,  put  on  some  fresh  wood, 
and  stirred  the  fire  till  it  blazed  high,  and  filled  the  room  with 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  377 

a  cheerful,  although  fitful  light.  Then  seating  herself  in  the 
corner  of  the  great  settle  nearest  the  blaze,  she  opened  the 
letter,  and  leaning  forward  so  as  to  bring  the  fire-light  upon 
the  sheet,  she  read  it. 

Jason  wrote  from  New  York.  The  letter  "was  not  in  his 
usual  merry  vein.  He  said  that  his  sister  Frederica,  whose 
name  he  coupled  with  much  brotherly  praise,  as  indeed  he  al- 
ways did,  was  very  sick ; ,  very  sick  indeed.  He  was  writing 
in  her  chamber — her  chamber,  which  he  thought  she  would 
never  leave  again.  He  wrote,  because  when  he  was  sad  or  in 
trouble,  he  wanted  to  talk  with  Salanda,  and  the  next  best 
thing  to  talking  with  her  was  to  write  to  her,  and  to  receive 
one  of  her  letters.  This  he  said,  and  much  more  to  the  same 
and  further  effect ;  all  of  which  interested  Salanda  much  more 
than  it  can  be  presumed  to  interest  the  reader.  And  he  said 
in  addition  to  this,  that  the  promise  which  Salanda  wished 
him  to  make  a  year  ago,  he  had  now  made  to  his  dying 
sister.  It  had  made  her  happier,  she  said ;  and  he  wished 
to  make  the  same  promise  now  to  Salanda  also,  hoping, 
that  if  she  still  felt  any  interest  in  his  welfare,  she  would 
find  some  pleasure,  even  at  this  late  day,  in  accepting  it. 

Salanda  had  not  fairly  finished  the  perusal  of  the  letter  whefl 
the  sound  of  stumbling  in  the  entry  caused  her  hastily  to  fold 
it,  and  conceal  it  in  some  mysterious  receptacle  of  her  dress. 
She  had  just  done  this  as  the  Captain  entered,  in  the  full  en- 
joyment of  his  constitutional  liberties. 

"  Citi-zens-s  t'-therr  escue,"  said  he,  as  lie  came  in,  "  t-therr 
escue,  ther  escue.  There,"  he  continued,  waving  the  open 
handbill  toward  his  daughter,  "  there,  S'landermy  darl'g, 
there 's  ze  notice.  'Z  going  t'  be  a  great  dem-er,  dem —  great 


378  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

demerstrashun ;  that's  it,  a  great  demerstrashun  t'morrow. 
Z'  Deacon's  going  t'speak." 

"  Father,"  said  Salanda,  bringing  up  a  chair  and  placing  it 
in  his  favorite  corner,  "  is  it  pleasant  out  to-night  ?" 

"  'Zt  pleasant  ?  Ye-hes.  'Ts  very  pleas-n't.  'Ts  beautiful. 
'Ts  going  to  rain.  I  know  'ts  going  to  rain.  I  'iu  a  kind  of  a 
b-b'rometer-br-br — I'm  a  kind  of  a  br-ometer.  I  feel  ther 
quicks'lver  when — er  the  weather  changes.  I  beenafalling  to- 
day. I  know  'ts  goingto  rain.  'Ts  beautiful.  'N  when— -er 
citizens-scome-t'therr-escue-h — I  been  a  falling  all  day,  an' 
when  it  rains,  citizens  '11  getwet  Salanda  !" 

«  What,  father  ?" 

"  'R  you  crying,  Salanda  1  Doan  cry.  Let  ther  clouds 
cry ;  don't  you  cry,  i's  their-h-business.  'S  what  they  're  made 
for.  'Tain't  whatyouermadefor." 

The  Captain,  after  a  long  and  rambling  search  upon  the 
mantle-piece,  succeeded  in  finding  his  pipe  there — it  was  ex- 
actly in  its  place,  indeed  it  always  was — and  having  found  it, 
he  clumsily  filled  it,  and  after  one  or  two  experiments  light- 
ed it. 

"  Salanda !"  he  continued. 
'  "  What,  father  ?" 

"  What'youthinMng  about  ?  Say,  Salanda.  What'ryou- 
thinking  a-h-bout  ?" 

"  Nothing,  father.     It 's  tea-time." 

"  You  thinkinga-h-bout  nothing  ?  'Ate  a  grea-teubject. 
Nothing  'sjuss  what  I've  been  thinking  'bout.  An'  I'm  go- 
ing to  do  it.  'S  juss  what  I  'm  going  to  do.  Nothing.  'R 
you  thinkingaboutnothing  ?  I  don't  believe't,  Salanda.  Young 
lady  's  old  's  you  are — 'n  Vansoine — they  doan  sit  'n  think 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  379 

aboutn-n-othing.  'St  they  didn't  when  wh-whenlwasayoung 
m-h-an." 

"  I  was  thinking,  father,"  said  Salanda,  finding  that  he  pur- 
sued the  inquiry,  "  that  I  wish  we  could  get  somebody  to  do 
the  farm-work." 

"  Farm  work  ?"  said  he.  "  Where  isee  farm-work  ?  'Is 
is  n't  a  farm.  'Sa  country  seat.  Farm  's  a  place  where  they 
work.  This  'sa  country  seat,  this  'z  is.  Country  seat 's 
a  place  where  they  doan  work,  'causetheydonorowt'work. 
They,  they  do — juss  wha'  they'reamin'to.  This  place's  n't 
a  farm.  I  don't  work.  I  use'  to  work  when  I  lived  'n 
New  York.  I  use'  to  work,  'n  I  use'  to  drink.  I  use'  to 
drink  pretty  'ard.  But  I  don't  work  now.  I  go  down  to 
Donoe's,  that 's  all  I  do,  'n  to-morrow  I  mean  to  go  t'  ther' 
rescue.  I  Ve  a  good  min'  to  speak  t'  'ther'  rescue.  Z'  Dea- 
con 's  going  to  speak.  I  wonder  what-h-the  Deacon  's  going 
to  say.  Z'  Deacon  's  a  firs'  rate  fellow,  only  he  drinks.  'Ts  too 
bad  th'  Deacon  drinks.  A  deacon  'at  drinks  '11  lie  ;  'n  a  deacon 
'at  lies,  I  Ve  readitsome-h-whers, — some  newspaper  says  so, — 
'at  a  deacon  't  '11  lie,  '11  steal ;  '11  steal.  An'  a  deacon  't  '11 
steal, — Salanda,  what  '11  a  deacon  do  ool  steal  ?  What  wont- 
eedo  ?  I  know  what  he  '11  do,  he  '11  sw — he  '11  swing ;  no  he 
won't  swing  yet,  he  '11  swingle.  'At 's  it,  he  '11  sw-w-ingle. 
'An  a  deacon  'at  '11  swingle  '11  go  to — Citizenstother-h-escue  ! 
Donoe  's  going  t'  therr  escue.  I  mean-h-to  go  t'  therr  escue. 
I  Ve  juss'  as  gooaright'oogo  's-h-Donoe.  Donoe  said  I  was  a 
d-dog.  I  don't  see  what  he  w-wanted  t-to  call  me  a  d-dog 
for.  I  ain't  a  dog.  I  doan  drinklikea  d-dog.  A  dog  doan  drink 
like  me.  I  guess  Donoe  meant  t'  insult  me.  Or  the  dog.  He 
meant  the  d-dog.  But  I  mean  to  go  t'  therr  escue.  I  c'n  go 


380  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

without  d'ssinc'shun  of  party.  I  'm  a  citizen,  'n  my  liberties 
's  good  a  right,  jus'  as  good  a  right, — my  liberties  jus'  as 
much  right 's  Donoe's. 

"  S'landa  ?" 

"  What,  father  ?"  said  Salanda,  coming  forward  from  the 
other  side  of  the  room,  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  gain  her 
father's  attention. 

"  S'landa,  see  there.  There 's  zer  notice.  'Ts  the  deacon's 
own  notice.  See  there." 

And  the  Captain  fastened  up  the  handbill  by  pinning  it 
with  his  jack-knife  against  the  woodwork  over  the  fireplace. 

"  See  there^-S'landa.  .  Why,  you  Ve  been  cry-h-ing,  child. 
You  must  n't  cry.  'Ts  bad  times,  but  it.'s  going  t'  be  all  right. 
Citizens  'r  comingt'-therr  'escue ;  'n  when  citizens  comes  to 
their  'escue,  't  '11  be  all-1-right" 

Saying  this,  the  Captain  leaned  forward  and  took  up  a 
brand  from  the  dying  fire,  and  held  it  unsteadily  to  the  lower 
corner  of  the  handbill.  It  browned,  curled  up,  smoked,  took 
a  spark,  caught  in  a  blaze,  flamed  up  high, — and  went  out ; 
leaving  the  Captain's  jack-knife  sticking  through  a  cinder. 

"  There,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  speaking  apparently  to  the 
jack-knife.  "  Thas  's  the  way  I  fix  'em.  My  liberties  's  juss 
as  good  a  right  to  be  per-perotected,  juss  as  good  a  right 's 
Donoe  V 

The  next  day  there  was  great  commotion  in  that  stratum 
of  Cone  Cut  society  which  comprised  the  judicious  friends  of 
temperance.  The  occasion  was  memorable  in  the  town  as 
the  last  and  expiring  united  effort  of  resistance  which  dying 
liberties  could  make  against  overwhelming  oppression.  The 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  381 

hour  of  the  meeting  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  the 
place  was  a  grove-shaded  field  just  behind  the  academy.  But 
the  greater  part  of  the  proceedings  were  privately  rehearsed 
during  the  forenoon  in  the  back-room  of  Gregory  Donoe's 
stoi'e.  So  much  of  the  action  of  the  meeting  as  could  then 
be  foreseen,  was  there  carefully  and  faithfully  preconcerted  by 
Messrs.  Ficksom  and  Donoe,  under  the  counsel  of  Esquire 
Blote,  and  with  the  assistance  of  S.  T.  Taddle. 

S.  T.  Taddle  is  our  fellow-townsman,  and  a  very  amiable 
citizen.  To  this  day  he  lives  in  Cone  Cut,  where  he  still 
keeps  his  store  for  the  sale  of  hats  and  shoes.  In  his  business, 
extremes  meet,  and  Mr.  Taddle  can  clothe  either  ex- 
tremity of  the  human  form,  from  his  numerous  and  well- 
selected  stock.  The  legitimate  custom  not  being  very  active, 
he  keeps  also  in  the  same  room  a  shop  for  the  manufacture, 
and  more  particularly  for  the  renovation,  of  boots  and  shoes. 

Mr.  Taddle  is  a  man  of  an  intellectual  turn  of  mind,  and, 
as  his  friends  remark,  one  of  the  most  public-spirited  men  in 
the  place.  He  takes  a  prominent  part  in  town  meetings ;  and 
is  accustomed  to  join  actively  in  any  movement  whatever 
that  affords  scope  for  the  erudition  of  "  Jefferson's  Manual," 
two  copies  of  which  he  always  carries  about  his  person ;  one 
in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  bound  in  cloth,  and  another — an  im- 
perfect copy — in  his  head,  bound,  as  one  might  say,  in  calf. 

The  judicious  friends  of  temperance,  looking  about  them  to 
annex  such  respectability  as  they  might,  had  cast  their  eyes 
on  S.  T.  Taddle,  among  others.  They  felt  no  particular  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  man,  as  a  man — he  was  a  very  respect- 
able sort  of  a  man — but  they  looked  up  to  him  as  being  the 
very  best  person  in  all  the  village  to  lend  the  imposing  sane- 


382  COKE    CUT    CORNERS. 

tion  of  dignity  and  artistic  regularity  to  their  organization, 
and  their  action.  Mr.  Taddle,  on  the  other  hand,  felt  little  or 
no  interest  in  the  cause,  one  way  or  the  other  ;  but  he  viewed 
the  judicious  friends  of  temperance  as  a  body ;  to  organize 
them,  to  preside  over  their  councils,  and  to  direct  their  action, 
would  be,  he  felt,  a  task  worthy  of  himself  and  Jefferson.  It 
was  with  these  mutual  views  that  they  had  solicited,  and  he 
had  accorded,  his  important  parliamentary  services.  So  that 
whenever  S.  T.  Taddle  spoke,  the  judicious  friends — every 
man  of  them — listened ;  and  whenever  the  judicious  friends 
would  listen,  Mr.  Taddle — and  Jefferson — spoke. 

The  first  assistance  which  Mr.  Taddle  rendered  to  the  cause, 
consisted  in  requiring  the  movers  of  the  meeting  to  erect 
a  little  platform  or  stage,  like  a  scaffold,  whereon  the  more 
prominent  of  the  judicious  friends  should  stand.  This,  al- 
though it  was  not,  as  he  explained  to  them,  laid  down  in  the 
Manual,  was  nevertheless,  he  urged,  an  indispensable  requisite 
to  a  regular,  formal  and  valid  meeting. 

On  the  forenoon  of  the  day  appointed,  Mr.  Taddle  went 
down  to  the  ground  chosen  for  the  meeting,  and  there  having 
visited  the  scaffold,  and  tested  its  strength,  and  in  his  soli- 
tude, having  approved  its  convenience  by  reciting  from  it 
with  gestures,  an  appropriate,  but  impromptu  acknowledg- 
ment of  some  honor — what,  did  not  very  clearly  appear — 
returned  with  a  smiling  face  to  the  store,  and  shortly  became 
closeted  with  his  co-laborers — a  potential  president  with  a 
chrysalis  committee.  The  resolutions  that  were  then  pre- 
pared, combined  so  masterly  an  exposition  of  the  Constitution, 
the  Bill  of  Rights,  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  Magna 
Charta,  and  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments, 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  383 

that  when  read  in  the  afternoon,  they  astonished  and  delighted 
the  judicious  friends,  and  sent  dismay,  confusion,  and  silence 
upon  all  fanatics. 

In  due  time,  the  community  coming  forth,  gathered  them- 
selves in  a  crowd  of  men  and  boys  around  the  scaffold,  where 
they  found  the  committee,  and  also  Mr.  Taddle,  who  was,  for 
the  fifth  time,  experimentally  ascertaining  the  number  of  all 
possible  arrangements  of  a  table,  a  pitcher,  a  tumbler,  and  the 
Jefferson's  Manual.  The  promise  of  rain  which  the  night  had 
made  was  unfulfilled  by  the  day.  The  weather  was  warm ; 
but  Nature,  feeling  perhaps  an  interest  in  the  cause,  and  un- 
willing that  the  judicious  friends  should  stand  in  the  sun,  had 
spread  her  parasol  of  clouds,  and  held  it  patiently  for  them  all 
the  afternoon. 

When  the  necessary  and  proper  preliminaries  had  been 
completed,  during  which  Mr.  Taddle  and  Jefferson  seemed  to 
have  it  all  their  own  way  with  Mr.  Donoe  and  the  ex-deacon, 
the  resolutions  were  read  to  the  assembled  citizens  who  had 
come  to  the  rescue. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  the  president,  starting  up  after  their 
perusal  had  been  accomplished,  and  commencing  his  observa- 
tion with  a  gesture  he  had  read  of  in  "  The  Young  American 
Speaker,"  "you  have  heard  the  resolutions.  What  is  your 
pleasure  with  them." 

The  president  sat  down  again.  There  was  a  pause.  Gen- 
tlemen really  did  not  seem  to  know  what  was  their  pleasure. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  president  Taddle  again,  starting  up 
with  a  gesture  he  had  learned  from  the  "Northern  Hemi- 
sphere Orator,"  "  is  there — " 

Just  at  this  juncture  Mr.  Ficksom   interrupted  him  by  a 


384  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

pull  upon  his  coat-tail,  and  after  a  moment's  conference  with 
him,  that  gentleman  arose,  and  president  Taddle  cried  out 
again  with  a  new  gesture — exclusively  original  this — 

"  Allow  me  to  introduce  to  you  our  respected  and  influential 
fellow-citizen,  Ezekiel  Ficksom." 

Thus  presented,  that  gentleman  came  forward  in  some  per- 
spiration and  much  modesty,  bowed  to  the  crowd  in  token 
that  he  was  happy  to  form  their  acquaintance,  and  said, 

"Ahem!" 

At  this  commencement  there  was  a  sensation  in  the  audi- 
ence, and  one  small  boy  who  had  attained  a  precarious  eleva- 
tion in  a  neighboring  sapling,  cried  out,  in  a  high  key,  irrever- 
ently, "  Hooray !" 

In  no  wise  over-elated  by  this  encouraging  and  cheering 
reception,  the  speaker  continued. 

"  Fellow-citizen  and  fellow-liberti— -er — fellow — er — friends 
of  liberty." 

Here  the  weight  of  the  small  boy  broke  a  branch  in  the  top 
of  the  sapling,  and  he  came  down  into  the  crowd  in  a  manner 
that  had  the  effect  very  materially  to  divert  them  for  a  few 
moments  from  the  eloquence  which  awaited  their  attention. 

"Fellow-citizens  and  fellow  friends  of  liberty,"  said  Mr. 
Ficksom,  taking  a  fresh  start  when  the  excitement  had  sub- 
sided, and  looking  around  upon  the  faces  before  him  as  he 
spoke.  "  I  am  called  upon  very  unexpectedly  to  say  something 
to  you  about  this  law.  As  I  rise,  a  sense  of  responsibility — a 
painful  sense  of  responsibility — of  a  great  moral  responsibility 
of  civil  and  political  and  religious  influence,  permeates  and 
perambulates  through  the  recesses  of  my  heart," 

Face  expressive  of  perambulating  responsibility. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  385 

"  Now  at  the  very  beginning,  I  want  to  say  that  I  for  one 
go  for  temperance.  I  wish  well — I  believe  we  all  wish  very 
well  to  the  cause.  We  are  all  friends  of  true,  honest  temper- 
ance. I  have  in  my  heart  an  active  interest  in  it,  and  I  have 
a  deep  and  all-pervading  and  overpowering  sympathy  for  its 
objects — a  sympathy  which  is  irrepressible  and  can  find  no 
vent." 

Face  expressive  of  irrepressible  sympathy  finding  no  vent. 

"  Intemperance  is  then,  sir,  a  great  moral  evil.  To  stop  in- 
temperance and  crime  would  be  very  good  objects,  indeed. 
But  the  proper  cure  for  moral  evils  is  by  moral  means.  Provi- 
dence has  provided  proper  means  for  every  proper  object,  and 
the  proper  remedy  for  a  moral  evil  is  moral  suasion.  And,  in 
fact,  this  is  one  of  my  principal  objections  to  this  prohibitory 
law,  as  it  is  called,  that  it  attempts  by  legislation  to  prevent 
moral  sins — a  thing  which  has  never  been  successfully  done  in 
the  whole  history  of  mankind." 

"  Hear  !  hear !"  cried  the  Captain,  sitting  up  upon  the  knoll. 

"Citizens,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  your  applause  assures 
me  that  we  are  agreed  upon  this  fundamental  point.  And 
thus  encouraged  I  go  further,  and  I  state  boldly  that  in  my 
opinion  such  legislation  is  morally  certain  to  defeat  its  own 
ends.  It  will  inevitably  create  an  irresistible  and  inevitable 
reaction  that  will  overwhelm  the  cause  like  an  avalanche 
from  the  Rocky  Mountains." 

Face  expressive  of  reaction  like  an  avalanche. 

"  Whatever   the    temporary   feelings  of  individuals,   or  of 

communities  may  prompt,  no  sensible  man  can  believe  that 

such  an  enactment  as  this  can  keep  its  place  permanently  on 

the  Statute-book  of  any  American  State.     No  zeal  for  tem- 

17 


386  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

perance  or  any  other  good  cause  will  warrant  so  gross  an  in- 
vasion of  personal  rights  as  it  provides.  "Where  is  the  man 
so  lost  to  every  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  liberty  and  the  glo- 
riousness  of  moral  suasion,  as  dare  say,  it  is  right  ?  Where 
is  he !" 

<:  Hear  !  hear  !"  cried  Captain  Mayfenie. 

The  crowd  laughed.     President  Taddle  called  out  "  Silence." 

"  Yes,  silence  there,"  responded  the  Captain. 

"  Sir,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  moral  means  are  the  only 
way  to  produce  any  effect  on  the  wickedness  of  the  human 
heart.  The  rude,  harsh  provisions  of  law  were  never  made 
to  reform  men.  They  are  not  the  right  means  to  restrain  the 
appetites  and  passions  of  men,  and  all  the  depravity  of  the 
human  heart." 

Face  expressive  of  all  the  depravity  of  the  human  heart. 

"  I  can't  witness  without  perturbation  of  spirit  the  blow 
which  this  intemperate  legislation  strikes  at  all  our  liberties. 
Nobody  has  any  right  to  go  about  to  search  the  houses  of 
citizens,  and  seize  their  property.  If  one  set  of  men  may 
have  it  another  may.  If  they  may  have  this  power  against 
one  species  of  property,  they  may  against  another.  When 
you  see  your  neighbors  reduced  from  affluence  to  poverty  by 
a  single  touch  of  this  mysterious  power,  you  will  ask,  Where 
does  the  power  come  from  ?  what  are  its  limits  ?  Or  has  it 
no  limits,  except  the  will  of  the  Legislature  ?  It  will  be  found 
then,  that  we  have  such  a  thing  as  a  Constitution,  and  that  all 
are  bound  to  respect  its  -provisions." 

Face  expressive  of  respect  for  provisions. 

"  I  have,"  continued  he,  warming  with  his  subject,  "  no  in- 
terest as  an  humble  and  insignificant  individual  in  this  ques- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  387 

tion,  which  like  a  whirlwind  is  heaving  up  the  bosom  of  the 
community  in  convulsive  and  agitating  throes  as  the  vol- 
canoes of  the  torrid  regions  cast  up  fire  and  dirt.  I  am  here 
not  as  an  individual  to  defend  my  personal  rights.  I  am 
here,"  he  cried,  raising  his  tone  for  greater  emphasis-,  "  I  am 
here  because  the  sacred  principles  of  universal  liberty  are  in 
danger.  I  wish  to  raise  my  feeble  voice  in — " 

"  Louder !"  suggested  the  Captain,  in  a  stentorian  voice. 

"  — My  feeble  voice,"  vociferated  the  speaker,  "  in  defense 
of  liberty.  Liquor  is  not  in  itself  injurious  to  any  person  or 
thing,  like  gunpowder  or  other  dangerous  things.  It  is  its 
improper  use  or  rather  its  abuse — its  consequential  moral 
operations — " 

Face  expressive  of  consequential  moral  operations. 

" — rather  than  any  direct  physical  effect  against  which 
the  law  is  intended  to  provide.  Now  liquor  is  property. 
And  no  judicious  friend  of  temperance  can  claim  that  it  is 
not.  It  is  property,  is  n't  it  ?  And  while  it  is  our  property, 
it  belongs  to  us  ;  don't  it  ?  I  pause  for  a  reply." 

"  I  guess  it  does,"  cried  the  Captain.  "  We  paid  for  it ; 
did  n't  we  Deacon  ?" 

"  Mr.  President,"  said  Mr.  Ficksom,  "  some  person  in  the 
crowd  interrupts  me.  I  appeal  to  this  meeting,  to  the  dignity 
of  our  fellow-citizens,  and  to  the  honor  of  the  cause,  to  know 
if  such  interruptions  are  to  be  permitted  to  break  in  upon  the 
calm,  harmonious  beauty  of  our  deliberations." 

Face  expressive  of  calm,  harmonious  beauty. 

"Mr.  President,"  said  the  Captain  rising  and  straightening 
himself  up,  and  speaking  in  his  good  nature  as  nearly  as  he 
could  in  the  very  intonations  used  by  Mr.  Ficksom.  "  Mr. 


388  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

President,  I  appeal  to  this  meeting  n'  to  the  dign'ty  of  our 
fellow  citizens,  and  to  the  honor  of  the  cause,  to  know  how 
it  is  if  the  Judicious  Friends  of  Temperance  don't  want  us  to 
answer  'em,  what  do  they  ask  questions  for  V 

"  Order !"  cried  President  Taddle,  tapping  Jefferson  upon 
the  table,  "  Order !  Gentlemen,  must  not  interrupt  the  speaker. 
Order !  Mr.  Ficksom  will  please  proceed." 

"  But,  Mr.  President,  will  the  gentleman  please  repeat  the 
question  ?  I  think  I  can  answer  that  question  if  I  only  under- 
stand it." 

At  this  the  crowd  began  to  thin  out  around  the  scaffold 
and  to  turn  toward  the  Captain,  and  gather  round  him. 

"  Order !"  insisted  the  President  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  I  believe  I  have  the  floor,"  said  the  regular  speaker,  whose 
knowledge  of  parliamentary  learning  comprised  this  phrase 
and  no  more. 

""Well,"  answered  Mr.  Mayferrie  from  his  knoll,  "please 
keep  it.  There  's  another  floor  over  here.  I  don't  want  to 
take  the  gentleman's  floor.  The  grass  is  good  enough  for 
me." 

The  crowd  gathered  before  the  Captain  encouragingly. 

"  You  're  no  gentleman,"  cried  Mr.  Ficksom,  angrily. 

Face  expressive  of  no  gentleman. 

u  Fellow-citizens,"  said  the  Captain,  "  those  fellows  are  the 
— they  say  they  are — the  friends  of  the  Constitution  and  the 
cause  of  Temperance.  They  're  the  Judicious  Friends.  I 
ain't  a  Friend.  I  ain't  judicious,  either.  Gregory  Donoe  's 
judicious, — he  sells  liquor.  I  buy  liquor, — I  ain't  judicious. 
Perhaps  that 's  the  difference.  They  Ve  got  the  judicious 
precepts.  I  'm  one  of  your  injudicious  examples." 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  389 

"  Fellow-citizens  !"  cried  the  President  from  the  scaffold, 
which  was  now  left  quite  alone.  "  There  is  important  business 
before  the  meeting,  and  'Squire  Blote  will  address  you." 

"Put  him  down!"  vociferated  Mr.  Donoe  to  his  friends 
around  Mr.  Mayferrie. 

"Oh,  I'm  down  now,"  replied  Mr.  Mayferrie,  addressing 
himself  to  the  crowd,  but  speaking  for  Gregory's  ear.  "  You  Ve 
been  a  putting  me  down  ever  since  I  Ve  dealt  with  you.  Oh ! 
I  'm  down  now." 

"  Fellow  citizens,  I  have  heard  what  he  's  said  and  it 's  all 
one  of  his  humbugs,  or  one  of  his  jokes." 

"  You  've  been  drinking !"  screamed  Mr.  Ficksom. 

"Yes!  and  it  is  one  of  my  constitutional  liberties,"  re- 
turned the  Captain.  "  I  Ve  been  drinking  to-day.  I  'm  thirsty 
now.  I  expect  to  drink  some  more  by-and-by.  I  ain't  one 
of  your  judicious  men.  I  always  drink  when  I  'm  thirsty. 

"But  I  tell  you  this  is  all  talk — what  the  Deacon  says. 
He  says  nobody 's  any  right  to  search  other  people's  houses 
and  seize  their  property.  He  says  it  is  n't  constitutional.  I 
don't  know  whether  it  is  or  not,  but  I  know  when  he  did  n't 
think  so,  and  that  was  last  Tuesday  night  when  he  and  Squire 
Blote  there,  went  up  to  Widow  Cragin's  and  attached  all  her 
property.  Say,  Deacon !  did  that  invade  her  sacred  liberties 
any  ?  You  did  it  for  a  debt,  and  before  you  had  any  trial. 
You  did  n't  think  search  and  seizure  was  unconstitutional 
then,  I  guess. 

"  But,  gentlemen,  whatever  they  say  is  all  talk,  and  it 's  not 
much  use  for  us  to  answer  'em  unless  we  're  longer-winded 
than  they  are ;  which  we  ain't.  It  's  not  much  use  because 
we  're  bound  to  have  a  trial  of  that  law,  and  then  we  can  see 


390  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

for  ourselves.  For  my  part,  I  don't  expect  it  will  hurt  any  of 
us  except  the  dealers,  and  it  won't  injure  them  much,  any 
way.  They  Ve  been  having  it  all  their  own  way  with  us  ever 
since  we  can  remember  ; — they  're  a  hard-working  set,  and  it 
can't  harm  'em  much  to  have  a  little  leisure.  It  '11  do  to  try 
by  way  of  experiment ;  and  I  rather  think  we  '11  find  we  can 
do  without  'em  just  as  well  as  with.  I  don't  know  as  I  shall 
ever  stop  drinking  until  they  stop  selling.  I  always  drink 
when  I  'm  thirsty  ;  and  I  'm  thirsty  pretty  much  all  the  time 
now-a-days.  When  they  stop  I  guess  we  shall,  and  not  be- 
fore. I  expect  we  Ve  got  to  have  the  law,  and  we  may  as 
well  go  in  for  a  trial  of  it  It  won't  interfere  half  as  much 
with  Donoe  there  as  with  me,  for  he  's  got  other  business  to 
carry  on  just  the  same.  But  for  an  old  soaker  like  me,  when 
that  's  stopped,  I  have  n't  much  of  any  thing  left  to  do.  Our 
rights  are  just  as  good  as  theirs,  if  we  only  knew  it. 

"  Now  I  move  we  adjourn,  for  I  'm  thirsty  ;  but  first,  let 's 
have  three  cheers  for  the  cause." 

The  cheers  and  laughter  of  the  dispersing  crowd  came  very 
conveniently  just  at  this  juncture,  because  they  served  to 
drown  the  parliamentary  remonstrances  of  Mr.  Taddle  (who 
never  yet  had  deserted  his  official  post),  the  unparliamentary 
vituperations  of  Mr.  Ficksom,  and  the  extremely  excited  lan- 
guage of  Mr.  Donoe. 

"Boys,"  said  Mr.  Mayferrie,  stopping  and  turning  back. 
"  You  're  citizens,  and  have  come  to  the  rescue.  You  M  better 
stay  to  the  rescue.  You  're  needed.  I  'm  going  up  for  a 
drink." 

Between  these  two  recommendations  the  greater  part  of  the 
judicious  Friends  of  Temperance  then  and  there  assembled, 


CONE     CUT    CORNERS.  391 

found  no  difficulty  in  deciding.  Some  portion  of  the  assem- 
bled citizens,  indeed,  remained  clustered  around  the  platform, 
to  hear  the  address  of  Esquire  Blote,  and  to  act  upon  the  im- 
portant business  for  the  transaction  of  which  they  had  been 
called  together.  And  thus  engaged,  they  remained  assembled 
for  a  considerable  time,  Esquire  Blote's  address  proving  to  be 
somewhat  longer  than  might  have  been  expected  from  the  as- 
surances given  by  him  at  its  commencement. 

But  the  greater  portion  of  the  meeting  retired,  obedient  to 
the  suggestion  of  the  Captain,  and  a  short  time  afterward 
saw  them  more  socially  reorganized,  but  with  neither  presi- 
dent nor  Jefferson's  Manual,  in  Gregory's  store.  There  Cap- 
tain Mayferrie  slaked  his  thirst  by  often-repeated  exercise  of 
his  constitutional  liberties,  and  regaled  the  company  with 
their  favorite  song,  in  the  theme  and  burden  of  which  he  re- 
peatedly asserted ; — 

"  A  brick  from  the  sky  fell  on  my  hat. 
It  sticks  in  it  yet ; 
It  sticks  in  it  yet." 

This  lyric  was  received  by  all  present  with  far  greater  favor 
even  than  that  which  greeted  the  eloquent  addresses  of  the 
afternoon.  It  was  sung  with  spirit,  it  was  encored  with  en- 
thusiasm, and 'when  time  after  time  it  was  repeated,  the 
chorus  was  swelled  with  a  power  which  would  doubtless  have 
rejoiced  the  heart  of  every  judicious  friend  of  temperance 
Most  unfortunate  it  is,  indeed,  that  the  words  and  the  melody 
have  not  been  preserved. 

With  this  poetic  embodiment  of  his  idea  of  the  inspiration 
of  true  freedom,  the  Captain  commenced  and  finished  the 


392 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


evening,  and  was  ultimately  carried  home  by  Calick,  who 
came  in  search  of  him  at  a  late  hour.  Upon  a  hand-cart  the 
Captain  was  transported  homeward,  and  was  there  presented 
to  his  daughter  in  the  full  possession  and  enjoyment  of  his 
Constitutional  Liberties. 


XXIX. 

SEPTEMBER,    1854 


MR.  SOLOMON 
POPPENHAUSEN 
was  the  success- 
or to  Mrs.  Run- 
die  iu  the  oc- 
cupancy of  the 
Grand-  street 
store. 

Mr.  Edgecutt,  left  by  Mrs.  Rundle  in  charge  of  her  interest 
in  the  lease  of  premises  lately  occupied  by  her,  of  which 
lease  three  years  or  so  were  as  yet  unexpired,  proceeded  to 
inform  a  rather  indifferent  public,  by  the  medium  of  a  semi- 
weekly  advertisement  in  the  newspapers,  and  a  handbill 
posted  upon  the  store-shutters,  that  this  store  was  to  let,  rent 
sixteen  dollars  a  month,  possession  given  immediately,  apply 
to  B.  Franklin  Edgecutt,  No.  28  Nassau-street, 

An  indifferent  public  paid  but  little  attention  to  the  matter. 
But  Mr.  Solomon  Poppenhauson,  being  obliged  to  leave  the 
17* 


394  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

stand  which  he  had  occupied  for  many  years,  for  the  reason 
that  the  buildings  thereabout  were  soon  to  be  torn  down  to 
make  way  for.  new  and  splendid  edifices  intended  to  be  erect- 
ed by  the  March  of  Improvement,  noticing  the  hand-bill,  did 
apply  to  B.  Franklin  Edgecutt,  No.  28  Nassau-street.  And  as 
he  was  a  very  respectable-looking  man,  and  as  he  gave  the 
best  of  references,  namely  by  consenting  to  pay  his  rent  in 
advance,  Mr.  Edgecutt  authorized  him  to  take  possession  im- 
mediately, which  he  accordingly  did. 

Mr.  Solomon  Poppenhausen  was  a  jeweler.  A  jeweler  by 
profession  rather  than  by  trade.  A  jeweler  in  virtue  of  his 
sign  rather  than  by  reason  that  he  transacted  the  business  of 
a  jeweler  to  any  great  extent.  After  he  had  moved  into  his 
new  establishment,  and  had  made  the  best  possible  arrange- 
ment of  his  wares,  he  took  an  apprentice  to  give  dignity  to 
the  concern,  subscribed  to  two  of  the  daily  papers,  and  occu- 
pied his  leisure  moments  with  keeping  himself  informed  re- 
specting the  present  course  and  current  history  of  the  world. 
This  quiet  mode  of  life  was  occasionally  varied  by  the  recrea- 
tion which  he  found  in  burnishing  up  his  watches  and  silver- 
ware, and  in  giving  the  time  to  chance  customers. 

Mr.  Poppenhausen's  clocks  were  of  the  oldest  fashion ; 
clocks  that  took  time  easy  and  were  never  in  a  hurry.  There 
were  quite  a  number  of  them ;  and  the  first  lesson  in  the  art 
of  watch-making  which  Thomas  the  apprentice  received  was, 
how  to  wind  up  clocks.  For  many  weeks  the  only  employ- 
ment of  the  apprentice  was  to  keep  these  time-pieces  in  mo- 
tion ;  and  the  shop  being  very  silent  in  other  respects,  the 
clocks  kept  up  continually  a  most  animated  conversation  in 
monosyllables. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  395 

At  the  end  of  the  shop  -was  the  old  Regulator,  a  dusty,  old 
time-piece,  with  a  most  troublesome  convenience  of  a  variable 
almanac  for  all  time,  upon  its  dial ; — and  with  loud  footsteps 
it  took  long  strides  into  futurity.  On  the  counter  stood  the 
little  model  musical  mantle-clock,  which  kept  up  with  the 
Regulator  as  a  little  child  walks  with  his  father,  by  dint  of 
taking  many  short  steps  to  the  long  ones  of  the  other.  And 
there  were  twenty,  and  more  than  twenty  others. 

All  along  the  shelves  behind  the  counter,  within  glass 
doors,  and  in  the  window,  stood  the  silver-ware.  Famous 
silver- ware  in  Grand-street  it  became  ;  for  multitudes  of  self- 
denying  persons,  whose  appetites  for  plate  seemed  confined  to 
their  eyes,  stopped  at  the  window  as  they  passed,  and  pointed 
out  their  fancies  to  each  other,  and  choosing  what  they  would 
have,  went  away  quite  contented,  and  doubtless  fully  as 
happy  in  looking  at  it  from  withottt,  as  could  Mr.  Solomon 
Poppenhausen  have  been  in  looking  at  it  from  within  as  it  lay 
there  undisturbed.  And  many  a  thinly-dressed  lady,  coming 
in  with  a  careful  air  of  casual  inquisitiveness,  wanted  to  look 
at  spoons,  and  would  like  to  ascertain  the  price  of  silver  cas- 
tors, and  having  observed  with  approval  that  the  spoons  were 
very  heavy,  and  the  castors  very  rich,  and  having  inquired 
doubtingly  if  they  were  warranted  as  the  first  quality  of  silver, 
and  scanned  them  narrowly  in  search  cf  blemishes,  and 
weighed  them  critically  in  hand,  went  away  again  saying 
that  she  thought  she  should  come  in  and  purchase;  yet 
doubtless  had,  if  she  only  knew  it,  quite  as  much  pleasure  in 
not  being  able  to  buy,  as  Mr.  Solomon  Poppenhausen  had  in 
not  being  able  to  sell. 

But  it  was  rare  old  plate  he  had.     Solid  old  silver-ware. 


396  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

There  was  no  sham  about  that  The  spoons  were  not  Britan- 
nia in  disguise,  nor  the  gold  watches  German  silver  under 
false  colors ; — you  might  know  that  when  you  saw  how  fear- 
lessly he  rubbed  and  polished  them  twice  a  week.  His  wares 
were  as  honest  and  genuine  as  himself;  and  though  his  store 
was  but  a  little  one,  it  contained  a  greater  quantity  of  real 
silver  than  some  more  brilliant  establishments  in  Broadway. 

Mr.  Poppenhausen  was  as  old-fashioned  as  his  clocks,  and 
as  regular,  too,  in  his  daily  course  of  life.  When  the  old 
Regulator  struck  twelve,  Mr.  Poppenhausen  laid  down  his 
paper,  took  up  his  hat,  and  went  down  street  to  dinner.  Just 
as  it  was  catching  its  breath,  (as  old  clocks  do,)  preparatory  to 
striking  one,  he  came  in  again,  lajd  down  his  hat,  and  took 
up  his  paper.  In  the  mean  time,  Thomas  took  care  of  the 
customers,  having  been  directed  thereto  by  his  master,  accord- 
ing to  a  prescribed  formula  daily  repeated. 

The  customers  were  not  many,  and  Thomas  in  this  branch 
of  his  duty  had  not  very  much  to  do. 

Mr.  Hococks,  now  out  of  place  by  reason  of  indiscretions 
which  unfitted  him  for  business,  and  wandering  about  the 
town  ready  to  turn  his  hand  to  almost  any  honest  means  of 
livelihood,  happened  to  pass  by  Mr.  Poppenhausen's  store. 
Whether  his  attention  was  won  by  the  euphonious  name 
blazoned  on  a  swinging  sign  over  the  door,  or  caught  by  the 
ticking  which  pervaded  the  shop  and  echoed  out  into  the 
street,  or  attracted  by  the  Regulator,  the  expression  of  whose 
honest  face  was  so  congenial  to  his  own,  or  whether  he  merely 
intended  to  spend  a  few  minutes  in  recalling  old  associations, 
and  refreshing  his  memory  in  respect  to  the  personal  appear- 
ance of  gold  and  silver — whether  any  of  these  causes,  or  all 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  397 

combined,  were  his  controlling  motive  in  stopping  at  the  win- 
dow for  some  time,  or  whether  he  acted  without  a  motive,  as 
some  philosophers  say  man  habitually  does,  is  of  no  import- 
ance in  this  connection,  compared  with  the  fact  that  he  did 
stop  at  the  window,  and  that  for  some  time. 

It  was  a  warm  September  afternoon.  Mr.  Hococks  had 
been  in  the  sun  a  great  part  of  the  day.  His  face,  and  par- 
ticularly his  nose,  was  heated  and  red.  The  cooling  quality 
of  window-glass  is  well  known.  Mr.  Hococks  applied  his 
olfactory  to  the  window-pane  to  such  an  extent,  that  while 
very  much  at  his  leisure,  he  inspected  the  contents  of  the 
store  and  mentally  appraised  the  various  articles,  that  prom- 
inent feature  was  so  flattened  and  whitened  against  the  glass, 
that  the  identity  of  his  visage  was,  for  the  moment,  quite  de- 
stroyed, and  it  would  have  been  quite  impossible  that  Mr. 
Poppenhausen  should  ever  have  recognized  him  under  other 
circumstances  as  the  same  man.  Mr.  Poppenhausen  who  had 
been  almost  asleep  over  a  leader  in  the  newspaper — he  always 
read  the  leaders  the  last — was  aroused  to  a  sense  of  uneasi- 
ness at  this  apparition ;  for  to  say  nothing  of  being  made  the 
subject  of  such  general  inspection  by  two  round  rolling  eyes, 
he  felt  a  vague  certainty  that  the  elasticity  of  human  fiber 
must,  in  the  end,  overcome  the  brittleness  of  glass,  and  he 
was  dreading  every  moment  to  see  the  nose  come  through. 
When  Mr.  Poppenhausen,  spurred  on  by  this  fear,  arose  and 
moved  toward  the  window,  the  apparition  desisted  from  press- 
ing the  point  further,  and  suddenly  turning  around,  disap- 
peared. 

Mr.  Poppenhausen  advancing  to  the  door-step,  watched  the 
recreating  figure  of  Mr.  Hococks,  until  it  disappeared  around 


398  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

the  corner  of  Center-street.     He  then  went  back  to  his  seat 
and  went  to  sleep  again. 

"  Hococks,"  said  that  gentleman  to  himself,  as  he  pursued 
a  devious  course  down  Center-street,  "  Hococks,  my  friend, 
those  things  is  yours.  If  you  only  knew  it,  those  things 
is  yours.  All  you  Ve  got  to  do  is  to  get  'em.  But  to 
get  'em  you  want  some  help.  And  I  know  the  fellow  as  '11 
help  you.  'Cause  those  things  is  yours,  Hococks.  All  you  Ve 
got  to  do  is  to  get  'em.  That 's  all." 

"  Well,  Thomas,"  said  Mr.  Poppenhausen,  a  few  days  later, 
laying  down  his  newspaper  and  taking  up  his  hat,  as  the  clock 
struck  twelve,  "  I  'm  going  to  dinner,  Thomas." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  I  shall  be  back  in  about  an  hour,  Thomas." 

"Very  well,  sir." 

"And  if  any  one  calls  to  see  me,  I  am  at  Duckling's, 
Thomas." 

"  I  will  tell  them,  sir." 

This  formula  having  been  repeated  correctly,  Mr.  Poppen- 
hausen covered  his  shiny  bald  head  with  a  shiny  black 
beaver,  and  went  out.  As  he  passed  down  the  street  he 
noticed  a  carriage  standing  by  the  sidewalk,  within  the  dis- 
tance of  a  block  or  so  from  his  store.  But  carriages  were  by 
no  means  rare  in  Grand-street,  and  he  paid  no  attention  to  it. 
If  he  had  but  known  it,  the  occupants  of  the  carriage  noticed 
him.  And  long  before  Mr.  Solomon  Poppenhausen  reached 
Duckling's,  the  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door  of  his  store. 

"What  a  pity  that  the  customers  it  brought  did  not  know 
that  Mr.  Poppenhausen  always  went  to  dinner  at  this  hour. 


CONE     OUT    CORNERS.  399 

Two  gentlemen,  occupants  of  the  carriage,  without  waiting 
for  the  driver  to  dismount,  opened  the  carriage  door  them- 
selves, sprang  out  upon  the  pavement,  and  entered  the  store 
together.  One  of  the  gentlemen  was  a  sprucely-dressed  young 
man  of  twenty-five,  or  thereabouts,  but  dressed  so  as  to  look 
younger.  The  other  was  older,  more  shabby  and  less  pre- 
possessing in  his  personal  appearance. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  the  first  gentleman,  nodding  famil- 
iarly to  Thomas,  "  Poppenhausen  in  T' 

"  No,  sir  !  Mr.  Poppenhausen,  sir,  is  out,  sir.  He  is  gone  to 
dinner,  sir." 

"  There  you  are,  you  see,"  said  the  gentleman,  addressing 
his  companion.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  The 
train  leaves  at  half-past  one." 

"  What 's  the  odds  T  growled  the  other.  "  You  can  sell  us 
some  goods,  can't  you,  my  lad  ?" 

Thomas,  highly  pleased  with  his  new  responsibility,  said 
that  he  certainly  could,  and  proceeded  with  more  dexterity 
than  could  have  been  expected  from  one  of  his  limited  ex- 
perience as  a  salesman,  to  lay  out  for  the  inspection  of  his 
customers  the  handsomest  and  the  most  costly  articles 
the  store  contained.  Very  particular  his  customers  were  too, 
in  examining  every  thing  to  make  sure  that  it  was  solid  silver. 
For  the  plated  ware  they  seemed  to  entertain  a  great  contempt. 

At  length  having  made  the  boy  lay  out  for  him  a  large 
stock  of  the  best  plate  and  jewelry  in  the  establishment,  the 
younger  of  the  two  gentlemen,  Avho  appeared  to  be  the  real 
customer,  and  to  have  an  adviser  rather  than  a  partner  in  his 
companion,  was  suddenly  reminded  that  he  must  be  quick,  or 
he  should  lose  the  train. 


400  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

"  I  'in  from  Shawtucks,"  he  explained,  "  Shawtucks,  Ohio, 
and  I  must  start  for  home  this  afternoon.  I  'in  in  the  business 
myself,  have  been  a  long  time ;  and  I  must  say  I  never  saw 
any  plate  any  where  equal  to  yours.  If  your  prices  don't  cut 
too  deep,  I  shall  patronize  you  altogether.  When  will  your 
boss  be  back  ?" 

"  At  one,  sir." 

"  That  won't  do.  I  should  lose  the  train  to  wait  for  him. 
Where  does  he  dine  ?" 

"  At  Duckling's,"  replied  Thomas. 

"  Whereabouts  is  that  ?"  inquired  the  customer. 

"  It 's  pretty  near  the  Park,"  said  Thomas. 

"  All  right,"  said  the  gentlemen.  "  You  can  run  right 
down  with  me  now.  If  we  hurry  we  '11  catch  him  before  he 
goes.  Or  at  least  we  shall  meet  him  on  the  way  back." 

Thomas  demurred  to  this  proposal,  on  the  ground  that  he 
could  not  leave  the  store,  but  his  demurrer  was  overruled  by 
the  representation  that  it  would  not  do  to  lose  so  valuable  a 
customer,  and  by  the  further  offer  on  the  part  of  the  valuable 
customer's  friend  to  remain  in  the  store  till  Mr.  Poppenhausen 
should  return.  Thomas  at  length,  after  some  hesitation,  con- 
sented to  the  plan,  and  departed  with  the  valuable  customer 
to  find  Mr.  Poppenhausen,  while  the  valuable  customer's 
friend  assumed  an  honest  appearance  by  hiding  his  face  be- 
hind a  newspaper. 

As  the  valuable  customer  and  his  companion  Thomas, 
passed  down  the  Bowery,  the  valuable  customer  seized  the 
opportunity  afforded  him  by  a  few  moment's  intercourse  with 
a  youthful  mind,  to  do  what  good  lay  in  his  power  by  lending 
his  sanction  to  impressive  sentiments  of  morality  and  honesty. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  401 

"  Young  man,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  great  moral  sublimity, 
mingled  with  much  humane  condescension,  "  you  are  enter- 
ing upoa  a  business  in  which  wealth  lies  scattered  around 
you  in  the  utmost  profusion.  Honesty  is  the  most  valuable 
virtue  to  a  business  man  like  yourself.  Somebody  says  that 
'  Honesty  is  the  best  policy.'  It  is  the  only  policy.  Real, 
deep,  cute  honesty,  my  young  friend,  is  the  only  kind  of 
policy.  And  whatever  you  do,  I  warn  you,  my  friend,"  he 
continued  in  a  voice  thick  with  emotion,  or  more  probably 
with  a  quid  of  tobacco,  "never  to  be  found  out  in  any  tLing 
on  the  sly.  If  you  once  get  caught  at  any  thing  crooked, 
you  're  a  goner.  You  can't  straighten  yourself  out  after- 
wards. So,  my  boy,  whatever  you  do,  never  you  be  found 
out  in  any  thing  on  the  sly. 

"  Ah,  here 's  the  telegraph  office,  is  it  ?"  said  the  valuable 
customer,  interrupting  himself,  and  reading  from  a  sign. 
"Hold  on  a  minute.  I've  a  message  to  send.  You  wait 
here,  so  if  your  boss  comes  along,  we  may  n't  miss  him." 

So  saying,  he  hurried  up  the  steps,  leaving  his  youthful 
companion  at  the  door,  engaged  in  calculating  how  rich 
such  a  very  honest  man  must  be  by  this  time. 

Thomas  waited  below,  carefully  watching  both  sides  of  the 
street  for  Mr.  Poppenhausen.  Getting  tired  at  last  of  this 
occupation,  and  the  valuable  customer  not  returning,  Thomas 
went  up  into  the  telegraph  office  to  seek  for  him.  He  was 
not  there. 

Thence,  now  thoroughly  frightened,  he  hurried  back  to  the 
store.  As  he  turned  up  into  Grand-street  at  one  corner,  Mr. 
Poppenhausen  came  round  the  other.  The  valuable  custom- 
er's carriage  was  gone,  and  the  proprietor  and  his  apprentice 


402  COKE     CUT     CORNERS. 

entered  the  store  together,  to  find  it  rifled ;  the  most  valuable 
of  all  the  genuine  articles  taken  away,  and  the  rest  scattered 
over  the  floor  and  counters  in  every  direction. 

It  was  not  without  great  difficulty  that  Thomas  succeeded 
in  explaining  the  circumstances  of  the  case  to  Mr.  Poppenhau- 
sen. That  gentleman  was  not  what  you  would  call  a  quick 
man  in  his  powers  of  comprehension,  whatever  he  may  have 
been  in  his  temper ;  and  the  account  w,hich  Thomas  gave  of 
the  transaction  was  by  no  means  clear  or  coherent.  At  length, 
however,  when  Mr.  Poppenhausen  fully  understood  that  the 
best  part  of  his  stock  had  been  carried  off,  and  had  not  been 
paid  for,  nor  was  likely  to  be,  he  sat  down  among  the  ruins 
of  his  establishment,  and  groaned  aloud.  He  seemed  not  to 
have  any  thought  or  expectation  of  doing  any  thing  to  re- 
cover the  stolen  property,  or  the  faintest  idea  that  any  thing 
could  be  done  for  that  purpose. 

"  And  that 's  the  way  it  was,  sir,"  said  Thomas,  ending  for 
the  fourth  time  his  narrative,  "  and  I  am  sure  he  looked  very 
much  like  a  gentleman,  and  I  thought  it  was  all  right,  and  he 
said  he  would  stay  and  keep  the  store,  and  I  'm  sure  I  could  n't 
tell." 

Mr.  Poppenhausen  groaned,  but  returned  no  other  answer. 

"  But  I  might  go  after  Mr.  Edgecutt,"  continued  Thomas, 
"  and  maybe  he  could  tell  us  what  to  do." 

Another  groan  from  Mr.  Poppenhausen. 

"  And  I  '11  go  right  down  now,  sir,"  continued  Thomas,  "and 
bring  him  up.  Shall  I,  sir  ?" 

Construing  a  renewed  groan  from  Mr.  Poppenhausen  into 
an  affirmative,  Thomas  started  off,  at  a  quick  pace,  for  Mr. 
Elfjecutt's  office. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  403 

Mr.  Edgecutt  fortunately  was  in.  It  was  not  without  some 
difficulty  that  he  succeeded  in  eliciting  from  Thomas  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  without  undue  coloring,  for  under 
the  impression  that  he  might  be  held  to  account  for  the  rob- 
bery, it  was  natural  for  him  to  view  the  incidents  of  the  morn- 
ing in  a  light  not  at  all  calculated  to  afford  the  best  clew  to  a 
discovery  of  the  offenders. 

Mr.  Edgecutt  knew  that  it  would  go  a  great  way  toward 
securing  the  cooperation  of  Thomas  in  his  plans  if  in  discuss- 
ing them  he  could  lead  him  to  suggest  some  advantage,  and 
give  him  credit  for  the  idea.  Therefore  he  was  very  glad  to 
have  the  apprentice  suggest -that  they  should  send  some  one 
in  search  of  the  carriage  in  which  the  valuable  customer  and 
his  friend  had  come.  Giving  him  all  due  praise  for  the  sug- 
gestion, Mr.  Edgecutt  dispatched  Thomas  himself  on  this  er- 
rand, agreeing  to  meet  him  at  Mr.  Poppenhausen's  in  three 
quarters  of  an  hour. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Edgecutt,  thinking  that  the  best  way  to 
catch  a  rogue  was  to  follow  him  as  far  as  he  could  be  traced, 
while  his  track  was  yet  fresh,  bent  his  steps  to  the  telegraph 
office ;  intending  after  making  a  call  there,  to  seek  an  inter- 
view with  the  chief  of  police. 

It  was  a  branch  office,  recently  opened,  and  as  yet  by  no 
means  extremely  busy.  There  was  a  short  counter  at  one 
side  of*  the  room,  near  one  end  of  which  stood  a  little  square 
desk,  occupied  by  a  small  clerk  with  a  large  stiff  collar  and 
very  upright  hair.  In  the  middle  of  the  counter  a  brass  wire 
several  inches  high  stood  upright,  the  lower  end  fastened  into 
the  counter,  and  the  upper  end  pointed.  A  pile  of  slips  of 
blank  paper  about  the  size  of  bank-bills  were  stuck  upon  this 


404  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

wire,  so  that  any  one  wishing  to  send  a  communication  could 
write  it  upon  the  uppermost  of  these  papers,  and  then  pull  it 
off  and  hand  it  to  the  clerk,  to  be  manufactured  into  electric- 
ity and  sent  off  by  the  operator.  A  pencil  tied  by  a  long 
string  to  a  brass  nail  in  the  counter  lay  close  by,  to  write 
with. 

"  Not  much  doing  to-day,  is  there  ?"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt,  care- 
lessly taking  up  the  pencil  attached  to  the  desk. 
'    "  No,"  said  the  clerk,  "  only  one  message  this  two  hours.'' 

As  he  said  this,  Mr.  Edgecutt's  eye  fell  upon  the  pile  of 
slips  of  paper  before  him.  Regarding  it  more  closely  than 
before,  he  observed  indentations  in  the  upper  slip,  as  if  the 
last  person  who  had  written  a  dispatch  had  borne  upon  the 
pencil  with  a  heavy  hand,  and  left  the  traces  of  his  writing 
impressed  upon  the  paper  beneath  the  one  he  had  used. 

"  What  was  that  ?"  asked  Mr.  Edgecutt,  carelessly. 

The  clerk  made  no  audible  reply.  But  he  shook  his  head 
as  far  as  he  could  between  two  very  stiff'  angles  of  collar,  and 
pointed  with  the  tip  of  his  pen  to  a  line  in  the  card  of  printed 
rules  which  hung  upon  the  front  of  his  desk.  It  read  as 
follows : 

"All  communications  will  be  regarded  as  strictly  CON- 
FIDENTIAL." 

Mr.  Edgecutt  took  the  opportunity  of  the  clerk's  attention 
being  diverted,  to  slip  the  upper  three  or  four  papers  off  the 
file. 

"  Nothing  worth  knowing,  I  guess,"  said  he,  turning  away. 

"  Only  a  death,  I  believe,"  said  the  clerk. 

Then  he  suddenly  leaned  over  his  desk,  as  far  as  his  dan- 
gerous collar  would  allow,  and  diving  his  great  pen  into  a 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  405 

little  glass  sea  of  ink  before  him,  made  a  vigorous  show  of 
being  very  busy  with  his  writing,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I 
should  be  very  happy  to  talk  to  you,  sir,  and  tell  you  all 
about  it,  but  the  arduous  nature  of  my  occupation,  sir,  pre- 
vents me  from  spending  any  more  time  with  you,  sir." 

Mr.  Edgecutt,  with  difficulty  concealing  his  satisfaction,  bid 
the  clerk  good  afternoon,  to  which  salutation  he  received  no 
response,  and  hurried  out,  his  precious  paper  safe  in  his  hands. 
As  soon  as  he  got  fairly  into  the  street,  he  stopped  against  a 
tree-box,  and  unrolled  the  paper  to  decipher  it,  if  possible. 
It  was  with  some  difficulty  that  he  made  it  out,  but  at  length 
he  succeeded.  It  read  as  follows  : 


"To  P.  TUCKER, 

"  GURGEX'S  HOTEL, 

"  ALBANY. 

"  Solomon  died  at  half-past  twelve  this  afternoon,  quietly 
and  peacefully.  Hococks  and  I  will  come  on  with  the  re- 
mains. Meet  us  at  the  boat  to-morrow  morning. 

"R.  STRETCH." 

This  being  deciphered,  Mr.  Edgecutt  indulged  himself  in  a 
hearty  slap  on  the  knee,  rolled  up  his  slip  of  paper  again,  and 
hastened  to  Mr.  Poppenhausen's  store.  Here  he  found  the 
proprietor  putting  away  the  remnants  of  his  stock,  and  count- 
ing it  over  and  over  again  in  every  possible  combination  of 
numbers,  to  make  it  as  large  as  he  could.  Here,  too,  he  found 
Thomas  just  returned  from  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  find  the 
carriage  of  the  valuable  customer  and  his  friend. 

"Well,  Mr.  Edgecutt,"  said  Mr.   Poppenhausen,  turning 


406  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

round  upon  him  a  face  of  the  utmost  mournfulness,  "  this  is  a 
pretty  kettle  of  fish,  is  n't  it.  They  have  n't  left  me  a  piece 
of  real  silver,  hardly.  Look  at  it.  Just  look  at  it"  The  poor 
man  pointed  to  his  empty  shelves  vrith  a  face  of  sorrow  so  com- 
ical, that  even  sympathy  could  hardly  maintain  as  solemn  a 
countenance  as  the  nature  of  the  case  seemed  to  require. 
Still  breathing  hard,  for  he  had  run  a  good  part  of  the  way  to 
the  store,  Mr.  Edgecutt  handed  Mr.  Poppenhausen  the  paper. 

Mr.  Poppenhausen  looked  from  it  to  Mr.  Edgecutt,  and 
from  Mr.  Edgecutt  to  it,  with  a  countenance  as  blank  as  the 
paper  itself. 

"  "Well,"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt,  at  length  recovering  his  breath, 
"  I  think  we  Ve  caught  the  scamps." 

"  Eh  ?  What  ?  Caught  them.  Hurrah  !"  cried  Mr.  Pop- 
penhausen, in  the  greatest  state  of  excitement,  slapping  his 
hat  upon  his  head.  "  Come  along.  Where  are  they  ? 
Hurrah !" 

"  Hold  on  !  Hold  on  !"  said  Mr.  EJgecutt  "  Not  quite  so 
fast  They  are  not  any  where  yet  Sit  down." 

So  saying,  Mr.  Edgecutt  cleared  a  place  for  himself  upon 
the  counter.  Mr.  Poppenhausen  sat  down — or  rather  sat  up — 
on  a  high  stool  near  by. 

"  They  are  not  caught  yet,"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt,  "  but  we  can 
catch  them,  if  we  are  cautious.  But  we  Ve  a  precious  set  of 
rascals  to  deal  with." 

To  this  proposition  Mr.  Poppenhausen  assented,  by  nodding 
very  violently. 

"  The  man  that  was  here,  the  one  that  carried  off  the  silver, 
is  a  man  by  the  name  of  Hococks.  The  other  one  who  went 
with  John  is  a  fellow  named  Stretch,  whom  I  knew  something 


CONE    CUT    CORNERS.  407 

about  before.  As  soon  as  lie  and  John  had  gone,  Hococks 
cleared  out  the  silver  into  his  carriage  and  went  too, — " 

A  groan  from  Mr.  Poppenhausen  testified  to  the  accuracy 
of  Mr.  Edgecutt's  conjecture. 

"  — straight  to  the  boat — the  Albany  boat.  Stretch  met 
him  there." 

Mr.  Poppenhausen  placed  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and 
holding  his  head  carefully  ia  his  hands,  stared  upon  Mr.  Edge- 
cutt  out  of  gradually  widening  eyes. 

"  The  two  have  gone  to  Albany  in  the  afternoon  boat,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Edgecutt,  "  with  the  silver." 

Another  groan  from  Mr.  Poppenhausen. 

"  In  Albany  they  are  to  be  met  by  another  scamp — Tucker 
they  call  him.  I  think  we  must  have  some  one  there  along 
with  Mr.  Tucker.  Eh  ?  "VVe  must  telegraph." 

As  the  possibility  of  thus  recovering  the  lost  treasure  grad- 
ually broke  over  Mr.  Poppenhausen's  mind,  the  expression  of 
his  face  changed  from  one  of  deep  dissatisfaction  to  one  of  in- 
tense delight.  He  seized  one  of  Mr.  Edgecutt's  hands  in  both 
of  his  own,  and  actually  danced  up  and  down  in  his  efforts  to 
shake  it  sufficiently  to  indicate  the  satisfaction  he  felt. 

Mr.  Edgecutt  then  proceeded  to  explain  to  Mr.  Poppenhau- 
sen the  meaning  of  the  little  slip  of  blank  paper  which  he  still 
held  in  his  hand,  and  how  he  came  to  know  so  much  about 
the  valuable  customer  and  his  friend.  And  he  advised  that  a 
telegraphic  message  should  forthwith  be  sent  to  the  police  au- 
thorities in  Albany,  requesting  them  to  send  an  officer  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Tucker  to  the  boat  in  the  morning,  with  a 
view  to  provide  a  proper  escort  for  the  remains.  This  advice, 
with  the  additional  suggestion  that  the  message  be  sent  by 


408  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

the  other  telegraph  line,  in  order  to  keep  the  affair  as  quiet  as 
possible,  brought  on  another  paroxysm  of  grateful  admiration 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Poppenhausen. 

Mr.  EJgecutt  sent  the  dispatch  accordingly,  and  the  next 
Tuesday  morning  he  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  note  from 
the  police  authorities  at  the  Tombs,  informing  him  that  the 
remains  had  been  returned,  and  that  the  pall-bearers,  who 
took  so  prominent  a  part  at  the  funeral,  were  safely  housed. 
la  accordance  with  the  request  of  this  note,  he  went  up  to  the 
Tombs,  carrying  Mr.  Poppenhausen  and  Thomas  with  Lim, 
for  the  purpose  of  identifying  the  prisoners.  As  they  came 
into  the  Police  Court,  the  Justice  was  just  finishing  his  morn- 
ing's work,  and  disposing  of  the  last  half  dozen  unfortunates 
who  had  been  brought  there  the  night  before.  Mr.  Edgecutt 
and  his  companions  stood  waiting  for  Messrs.  Hococks  and 
Stretch  to  be  brought  forward. 

As  Mr.  Edgecutt,  a  little  apart  from  the  others,  was  talking  to 
a  policeman,  some  one  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  and — spoke. 

"  Halloo  !  how  are  you,  old  fellow  ?    I  'm  glad  to  see  you  f ' 

It  was  Mr.  Stretch. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  You  're  just  the  man  I  wanted  to  see," 
continued  he,  proffering  his  hand  to  Mr.  Edgecult. 

Mr.  Edgecutt  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  bowed, 
coldly. 

"  You  're  just  the  man  I  wanted  to  see,"  continued  Mr. 
Stretch,  in  no  wise  abashed  by  his  reception,  "  to  get  me  out 
of  a  little  scrape  I  have  got  into  here.  Those  policemen  ! 
hang  me  if  they  know  a  gentleman  when  they  see  him.  Ycu 
know  I  was  going  up  to  Albany — to  the  Assembly  there — I 
don't  know  as  you  knBw  I  was  elected  to  the  Assembly  ?" 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  409 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt.  Mr.  Edgecutt  certainly  did  not 
know  it.  It  is  doubtful  whether  any  body  else  did. 

"  Yes  !  oh,  yes.  I  run  in  last  fall.  By  a  first  rate  majority 
too,  I  tell  you.  Had  over  a  thousand.  Don't  say  any  thing 
about  it  here,  you  know,"  said  he,  nudging  Mr.  Edgecutt  with 
his  elbow,  "  the  Judge  is  of  the  other  politics,  and  hates  me 
for  that  reason.  He  don't  know  me,  you  know — except — er — 
by  reputation.  But  positively  I  had  to  change  my  name  on 
that  account — entirely  on  that  account — and  call  myself 
Robinson.  Just  think  of  it,  Kobinson !  That's  a  pretty 
position  for  a  man  of  my  standing,  is  n't  it  ?" 

"Very,"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt. 

"  Why,  it's  horrible,  you  know,  horrible.  But  as  I  was  say- 
ing, I  no  sooner  got  on  the  wharf  than  I  was  arrested  as 
a  thief,  on  I  don't  know  what  false  charge,  and  brought  down 
here.  You  know  we  Ve  got  such  a  rotten  police  system. 
Oh,  its  wretched,  wretched ;  I  'in  going  to  move  an  inquiry 
into  it,  the  first  thing  I  do  when  I  get  back  to  the  Legislature. 
It 's  a  disgrace  to  our  State ;  a  positive  disgrace,  you  know." 

"  I  would,"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt. 

"Oh,  I  certainly  shall,"  said  Mr.  Stretch.  "You  may 
depend  on  my  taking  hold  of  it  the  first  thing.  But  I  told 
the  man  it  was  a  mistake.  I  put  it  to  him  this  way.  I  said 
to  him,  '  Now  my  friend,  I  put  it  to  you,  as  a  reasonable  being, 
is  it  likely,  is  it  possible,  that  I,  a  member  of  the  Assembly,  a 
man  whom  his  country  delights  to  honor,  you  know,  should 
be  guilty  of  an  offense  against  the  laws.'  And  he  positively 
laughed  at  me  ;  the  impudent  fellow." 

"  Yes  ?"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,"  repeated  Mr.  Stretch,  "  laughed  in  my  face.  Why 
18 


410  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

I  told  him — and  I  told  them  here  too,  you  l;;:ow — I  could 
refer  'em  to  a  dozen  men  ;  name  'em  on  the  spot.  '  Why,'  says 
I, '  there 's  my  friend  Edgecutt,  for  instance.  You  know  Edge- 
cutt.  You  must  know  Edgecutt.  You  can't  help  knowing  him. 
Why  he's  the  most  promising  member  of  our  profession. 
He  'd  go  bail  for  me  to  any  amount.'  Why  you  know,  what 's 
the  profession  good  for,  if  it  was  n't  for  these  little  profes- 
sional courtesies — eh  ?" 

"  And  you  could  get  eleven  others  to  go  bail  P  said  Mr. 
Edgecutt,  inquiringly. 

"  Oh,  surely,"  said  Mr.  Stretch,  "  no  difficulty  about  that, 
you  know.  I 'm  in  a  little  of  a  snarl  now.'  But  I  shall  get 
it  all  straightened  out  very  soon.  And  if  there  's  any  thing 
I  can  do  for  you  in  the  Assembly  you  know,  why  just  say 
the  word.  Any  little  bill  you  know,  eh  ?  or  any  thing  of 
that  sort,  why  just  say  so.  Hang  me,  but  I  always  took  a  lik- 
ing to  you,  you  know.  Any  little  service  of  that  sort,  why — " 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Edgecutt.  "I  think  I  shall  not 
have  to  trouble  you." 

"  Oh,  bless  me !  don't  speak  of  the  trouble.  "What 's  the 
good  of  being  in  the  Assembly,  you  know,  except  to  have  a 
chance  to  help  one's  friends  now  and  then — eh  ?" 

"  And  as  to  going  bail,"  continued  Mr.  Edgecutt. 

"Well!" 

"  You  had  better  send  for  the  other  eleven.  I  am  here  on 
different  business,"  and  he  turned  away  from  Mr.  Stretch,  and 
resumed  his  conversation  with  the  policeman. 

Whether  Mr.  Edgecutt  was  so  far  forgetful  of  professional 
proprieties  as  to  inform  the  unsuspecting  justice  of  the  real 
name  of  Mr.  Stretch,  or  whether  the  justice  had  known  him 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  411 

before  by  sight  as  well  as  by  reputation,  certain  it  is  that  by 
some  mysterious  means  he  recognized  him,  and  called  him  by- 
name ;  and  notwithstanding  Mr.  Stretch  was  a  member  of  the 
Assembly,  notwithstanding  the  inherent  improbability  of  hia 
having  committed  a  breach  of  the  laws,  notwithstanding 
that  he  offered  the  names  of  eleven  gentlemen  of  the  highest 
degree  of  respectability,  including  the  governor  of  the  State, 
and  three  members  of  the  Legislature,  who  would  pledge  them- 
selves to  his  good  moral  character  and  upright  behavior,  the 
magistrate  allowed  party  feelings  and  political  enmities  so  far 
to  override  justice,  that  he  totally  disregarded  Mr.  Stretch's 
remonstrances  and  assurances  that  it  was  all  a  mistake,  and 
proceeded  to  hold  him  to  bail.  No  bail  being  forthcoming, 
in  consequence  probably  of  the  fact  that  the  eleven  friends 
of  Mr.  Stretch  all  resided  at  too  great  a  distance  to  allow  of 
their  being  immediately  advised  of  the  emergency  in  his  af- 
fairs, Mr.  Stretch  was,  in  company  with  Mr.  Hococks,  politely 
conducted  to  apartments  in  the  interior  of  the  building,  where 
he  had  the  opportunity  of  becoming  a  client  to  a  professional 
brother  moving  in  that  peculiar  circle  of  which  he  himself 
had  previously  been  a  member. 

Had  the  magistrate  succeeded  in  his  nefarious  and  unjust 
designs,  the  history  of  Mr.  Stretch  would  have  been  of  no 
further  interest.  But  Mr.  Stretch  having  been  brought  to 
trial  a  few  months  later  on  an  indictment  for  robbing  the  store 
of  Mr.  Solomon  Poppenhowsen,  and  it  appearing  by  the  pro- 
duction in  court  of  the  sign  itself,  and  other  incontrovertible 
evidence  that  the  store  which  he  had  robbed  was  the  store  of 
Mr.  Solomon  Poppenhawsen,  Mr.  Stretch  was,  by  direction  of 
the  learned  judge,  acquitted. 


412  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Thereafter,  having  become  thus  experimentally  acquainted 
with  the  danger  to  which  innocence  is  exposed  in  consequence 
of  the  rottenness  of  the  police  system,  he  philanthropically  re- 
solved to  return  to.  the  exercise  of  his  profession,  and  to  de- 
vote himself  to  the  defense  of  those  individuals  who  are  made 
the  victims  of  a  pretense  of  law  at  the  Halls  of  Justice,  better 
known  in  New  York  as  the  Eg}-ptian  Tombs.  And  to  this 
day  he  may  be  found  in  that  edifice,  or  in  his  unpretending 
office  near  by,  ready  to  devote  himself,  for  a  small  considera- 
tion, to  the  assistance  of  any  gentleman  in  difficulties,  who 
may  require  his  aid.  ' 

Mr.  Hococks  was  not  so  fortunate.  The  innocence  of  Mr. 
Stretch  having  been  declared,  and  his  honor  and  name  hav- 
ing been  so  singularly  vindicated,  it  was  to  have  been  ex- 
pected that  the  District  Attorney  would  at  once  have  declared 
his  conviction  that  Mr.  Hococks  had  been  held  upon  a  false 
accusation,  and  would  have  promptly  entered  a  nolle  prosegui. 
Instead,  however,  of  pursuing  this  manly  and  upright  course, 
that  officer  continued  further  his  persecutions  of  Mr.  Hococks, 
who  was  shortly  afterward  tried  before  the  same  learned 
judge,  and  convicted  upon  an  indictment  which,  by  a  purely 
technical  accuracy,  it  having  been  copied  by  another  clerk, 
contained  Mr.  Poppenhausen's  name  correctly.  The  unfortu- 
nate man  was  subsequently  sent,  at  the  expense  of  the  State, 
to  an  institution  more  generally  than  favorably  known  in 
the  community,  which  is  located  some  miles  up  the  Hudson 
River.  There,  in  a  neat  and  tasty  uniform  he  still  labors,  in 
his  humble  "way,  for  his  country's  good. 


XXX. 

NOVEMBER,   1854. 


IT  was  now 
full  two  years 
since  Paul  had 
first  commenc- 
ed his  medical 
studies  in  New 
York.  But 

during  that  time  he  had  gone  over  a  greater  length  of  road 
than  most  students  travel  in  their  whole  course  of  study. 
Such  a  task  was  not  to  be  accomplished  by  lagging.  Paul 
knew  this,  and  he  had  not  lagged. 

He  had  not  been  long  at  the  medical  school  before  his  in- 
dustry and  fondness  for  study  was  noticed  and  appreciated  by 
his  instructors.  He  was  particularly  fond  of  anatomy,  and 
entered  into  it  with  a  zeal  that  would  have  quite  horrified  his 
sister  Susie,  had  she  known  that  he  was  engaged  in  such  an 
unnatural,  horrible  business. 

In  deference  to  this  zeal  Paul  was  allowed,  by  special  per- 
mission, to  prosecute  his  favorite  researches  by  night.  Three 


414  COKE     CUT     CORNERS. 

times  a  week  be  was  accustomed  to  remain  in  the  room  de- 
voted to  anatomical  study,  allowing  the  scrupulous  janitor  to 
lock  him  in  as  he  always  persisted  in  doing ;  and  there,  to  a 
late  hour  of  the  night  he  pursued  his  work.  This  he  enjoyed. 
The  stillness,  the  security  from  interruption,  the  very  loneli- 
ness, were  luxuries  to  him ;  and  he  had  seen  altogether  too 
much  of  Death  now,  to  be  afraid  of  him  at  night. 

One  night  about  nine  o'clock,  Paul  Bundle,  stepping  cheeri- 
ly down  the  steps  of  the  edifice  known  indifferently  among 
different  classes  of  persons  as  Mr.  Minium's  house,  or  Pro- 
fessor Tappum's  Institution,  or  the  office  of  the  Copper  Man, 
or  Mrs.  Minium's  store,  or  Bundle's  rooms,  passed  up  through 
the  Bowery,  and  having  taken  a  modest  little  meal  con- 
sisting of  two  stews  of  oysters  and  the  beginning  of  a  cigar 
at  a  refreshment  saloon  upon  his  way,  reached  at  length 
the  Medical  School,  and  entered  the  room  of  mystery  and 
death — the  dissecting  room. 

It  was  a  long  unbroken  hall. 

At  one  end  of  it  was  a  small  grate  in  which  a  little  fire 
burned ;  not  enough  to  warm  the  room,  the  uses  of  which 
required  a  cool  atmosphere.  Against  the  wall  on  one  side  of 
the  grate,  stood  an  old-fashioned  sofa;  on  the  other  was 
built  a  long  wash-stand,  holding  six  or  eight  tin  basins,  each 
under  its  own  faucet.  At  the  opposite  end  of  the  hall,  a  great 
case  of  shelves,  with  glass  doors,  lined  the  wall,  filled  with 
curiosities  of  medical  science,  anatomical  preparations,  accu- 
mulated by  the  labors  of  that  room. 

As  Paul  walked  up  the  room,  from  the  grate  to  the  cabinet, 
the  wall,  on  his  left  was  broken  by  many  windows,  on  the 
right  was  ornamented  with  pictures  such  as  were  appropriate 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  415 

to  the  place.  Here  was  portrayed,  in  all  its  parts,  the  human 
frame ;  from  the  skeleton,  or  man  in  outline,  to  the  frame 
strung  with  muscles,  nerves,  blood-vessels — the  shaded  por- 
trait. And  the  professors  of  past  years  had  here  hung  draw- 
ings of  rare  deformities  which  their  skill  had  divorced  from 
hideous  marriage  with  the  human  system. 

Was  this  all  ?  Not  quite.  Along  the  floor,  at  equal  inter- 
vals, were  arranged  two  rows  of  narrow,  solid,  oak-plank 
tables.  Upon  these  were  pursued  the  gloomy  studies  of  the 
place.  This  hall,  so  cheerless  and  repulsive  in  itself,  was  daily 
thronged  with  light-hearted,  active  students,  full  of  zeal,  hope 
and  love,  for  the  studies  which  seem  so  fearful  to  the  multi- 
tude without.  Here  on  these  oaken  tables  lay  their  lessons — 
their  text-books,  each  volume  destroyed  in  its  first  perusal. 

"  How  many  student  generations,"  thought  Paul,  "  have 
toiled  and  still  toil  here,  seeking  to  find  in  Death  himself  the 
secret  of  his  cause  and  cure.  Yet  is  that  secret  undiscov- 
ered still.  Extensive  knowledge,  brilliant  talents,  unremitting 
zeal,  have  taken  up  the  task  in  youth,  and  laid  it  down  in  age. 
Yet  the  great  problem,  Death,  remains  unsolved." 

Such  thoughts  as  these  passed  through  Paul's  mind  as  he 
made  his  preparations  for  the  labors  of  the  night.  He  wrap- 
ped around  him  a  black  cambric  gown,  one  of  a  melancholy 
row  hanging  upon  the  wall,  worn  by  dissecting-students  as  a 
protection  to  more  valuable  clothing,  opened  his  case  of  in- 
struments and  laid  them  on  the  table  appropriated  to  him, 
turned  over  the  leaves  of  his  treatise  till  he  found  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  certain  triangular,  wing-shaped  muscle — known 
among  gentlemen  who  are  too  learned  to  call  things  by  intel- 
ligible names,  as  the  pterygoideus  externus — which  draws  the 


416  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

lower  jaw  bone  up  when  occasion  calls,  and  which  was  that 
night  the  allotted  subject  of  his  study ;  lighted  the  gas-burner 
above,  his  table,  arranged  the  head  of  his  subject  conveniently, 
and  was  prepared. 

Still  he  hesitated.  He  was  reluctant  to  begin  his  work 
until  he  should  be  alone.  For  all  this  time  Hugh,  the  janitor 
of  the  school,  a  brisk  little  Irishman,  was  bustling  about  the 
room,  preparing  to  close  it  for  the  night.  He  was  an  accommo- 
dating fellow,  as  Irishmen  generally  are ;  but  extremely  pre- 
cise and  methodical,  as  Irishmen  generally  are  not  Dr.  Cod- 
berry,  the  demonstrator  of  anatomy,  as  the  instructor  in  that 
branch  of  medical  science  is  usually  called,  was  standing  by  the 
grate  warming  a  square  foot  or  so  of  his  back,  and  drawing 
on  with  careful  consideration  for  tender  seams,  a  pair  of  black 
kid  gloves.  He  was  talking  with  Rowley,  one  of  Paul's  fellow- 
students. 

What  Rowley's  first  name  was,  we  have  never  been  able  to 
learn.  Paul  did  not  know,  nor  is  it  material.  And  it  is  pro- 
bable that  Rowley  has  to  this  day  as  little  idea  who  "Run- 
die"  was.  For  Christian  names  are  not  recognized  in  med- 
ical schools. 

Paul  waited  for  these  to  go  before  he  should  commence  his 
task  in  earnest. 

As  Hugh  was  giving  the  last  touches  to  his  work,  and  Dr. 
Codberry  had  just  got  on  his  glove  successfully,  without  hurt- 
ing the  feelings  of  the  tender  seams,  a  stealthy  knock  was 
given  at  a  low  door  in  the  other  end  of  the  room.  Hugh 
dropped  the  broom  with  which  he  had  been  drawing  together 
in  little  heaps  the  dust  and  litter  of  the  day,  and  hastened  to 
the  door.  He  unlocked  it,  opened  it  slightly,  and  looked  out. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  417 

Apparently  satisfied  that  all  was  right,  he  opened  it  wider,  and 
a  shaggy,  black-haired  head  peered  into  the  room  to  reconnoi- 
ter.  On  this  head  rode  a  little  jockey-cap,  using  the  wearer's 
ears  by  way  of  stirrups,  and  with  a  black  strap  falling  down 
upon  his  mouth  by  way  of  bridle.  There  was  a  moment's 
conversation  between  Hugh  and  the  new  comer.  Then  the 
door  was  thrown  wide  open,  and  two  rough  men  entered,  bear- 
ing a  burden,  concealed  in  a  coarse  sack.  The  janitor  fasten- 
ed the  door  behind  them. 

They  were  the  resurrection-men,  with  a  new  subject  for  the 
dissecting-room. 

They  passed  up  the  hall  to  an  unoccupied  table  at  the  fur- 
ther end,  where  they  laid  their  burden  down  upon  one  of  the 
tables,  and  drew  off  the  sack. 

"  There  's  a  beauty  for  you,"  said  shaggy-head.  "  Fresh  as 
a  spring  chicken,  too." 

"  She  is  a  beauty,"  assented  Dr.  Codberry,  putting  his  hand 
to  the  cheek  of  the  corpse. 

"  Typhus  fever,  clearly,"  suggested  Rowley,  instructively. 

"  Fever  I  should  say,  certainly,"  said  Dr.  Codberry.  "  I 
don't  know  about  the  typhus." 

Paul,  who  had  approached  the  table,  discerned  in  the  insuf- 
ficient light,  a  lovely  girl,  her  face  pale,  and  her  lips  nearly 
colorless.  Still  they  scarcely  wore  the  pallid  look  of  death. 
Her  black  hair  had  been  confined  smoothly  within  a  cap,  but 
now,  disturbed  by  rough  hands,  strayed  out  over  her  face. 
Her  form,  attenuated  by  disease  and  disguised  by  the  shroud, 
showed  signs  of  youth  and  beauty  yet.  The  slumber-like  ap- 
pearance of  her  repose,  her  yet  lingering  healthful  look,  the 
genuine  beauty  of  her  face,  charmed  him. 
18* 


418  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

One  does  not  often  see  combined  the  beauty  of  sculpture 
and  that  of  life. 

In  the  uncertain  light  Paul  could  not  distinguish  accurate- 
ly the  features  of  the  form  before  him.  But  he  had  a  vague 
recollection  that  he  had  somewhere  seen  some  such  face  as 
that.  How,  where,  when,  he  could  not  tell.  And  he  quickly 
dismissed  the  idea  as  absurd. 

The  resurrection-man  untied  the  cap  and  took  it  off  the  un- 
resisting head.  Laying  it  upon  the  table  he  commenced  to  un- 
fasten the  shroud. 

"  Can't  stop  for  that,  honey,"  interposed  the  janitor.  "  It 's 
to-morrow  morning  ye  must  come  for  that." 

"  Shroud  's  mine,"  growled  shaggy-head. 

"  Can't  help  it,"  said  Hugh.  "  If  ye  want  your  things  ye 
must  be  afther  'em  to-morrow,  or  else  stay  here  with  'em  the 
night." 

So  saying  he  walked  off  to  the  door,  followed  by  Dr.  Cod- 
berry  and  Rowley.  The  resurrectionist  reluctantly  dropped 
his  work,  and  tramped  out  with  his  companion.  A  moment 
more,  and  the  door  closed,  the  key  turned  in  the  lock,  and 
Hugh's  retreating  footsteps  left  Paul  in  silence  to  pursue  his 
work. 

Diligently  and  with  close  attention  he  labored  for  some 
hours.  The  Sysiphus  in  the  neighboring  church-clock  rolled 
his  burden  up  the  hill  of  time  to  twelve,  fell  back  to  one,  and 
labored  up  again  to  two  and  three.  At  length  somewhat 
weary,  Paul  rose  from  the  table,  replenished  the  fire,  and 
wheeled  the  sofa  round  toward  it.  Throwing  himself  at  full 
length  upon  it,  he  yielded  for  a  few  moments  to  rest  and 
thought. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  419 

Here  as  he  lay  with  eyelids  just  a-jar,  half  dreaming,  half 
awake — the  beautiful  face  so  near  him,  forgotten  as  he 
worked,  rose  again  to  view.  Where  could  it  be  that  he  had 
seen  a  face  like  that  before.  Somewhere  certainly.  Memory 
ran  quickly  through  her  mental  picture-gallery,  but  found  no 
portrait  of  this  face.  Then  it  was  but  a  fancied  resemblance, 
after  all,  thought  Paul.  So  memory  gave  up  the  inquiry  with- 
out success. 

Then  imagination  began.  Who  was  she  ?  What  her  form- 
er life  and  home  ?  These  Paul  pictured  to  himself  as  he 
lay,  half  waking,  half  asleep. 

She  was  plainly  one  (so  thought  he  to  himself)  who  had 
passed  her  life  in  ease  and  wealth.  He  fancied  her  some 
daughter  of  loving  parents ;  some  cherished  sister.  Just  as 
her  bloom  of  life  was  freshest,  disease  had  seized  upon  her 
frame  and  wasted  her  strength.  Against  its  power  there  was 
no  striving.  No  skill  could  support  her  faintness,  restore  her 
powers,  or  recall  the  fluttering,  departing  spirit.  Imagination 
thus  replied  to  the  questions  of  curiosity,  though  to  little 
purpose. 

But  when  had  he  seen  that  face  before  ?  Ever  ?  No  !  It  was 
nonsense.  It  was  out  of  the  question.  Or  if  he  had  ever  seen 
her  before,  she  was  nobody  that  he  knew.  That  was  cer- 
tain. He  did  not  know  any  rich  people.  And  that  she  was 
rich  was  plain  enough.  He  never  saw  a  finer  shroud.  Ex- 
cept Mr. . 

A  long-drawn  sigh  aroused  him.  He  was  on  his  feet  and 
wide  awake  in  a  moment.  In  that  hall,  at  that  lonely  hour 
of  night,  death  was  familiar,  but  the  thought  of  life,  terrifying. 
A  glance  around 'the  room.  An  instantaneous  collection 


420  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

of  scattered  senses.  That  head  was  lying  upon  its  cheek. 
That  face  was  turned  toward  the  light. 

Frederica  Chesslebury ! 

An  instant !  and  he  had  somewhat  darkened  the  gas-light, 
and  was  by  his  patient's  side. 

"  Where  am  I?"  she  murmured. 

"  Hush !"  whispered  Paul.     "  You  must  not  talk." 

He  lifted  the  light  form  easily  in  his  arms,  and  laid  her 
down  upon  the  sofa.  Her  eyes  closed  again,  but  she  breathed 
lightly  still. 

So  then,  that  strange  charm  was  the  light  of  life,  still  lin- 
gering in  the  frame.  Oh,  Life  !  more  fearful  than  Death  it- 
self: — Life  dead  : — Death  alive. 

Yet,  how  could  she,  thus  delivered  up  by  death,  be  pre- 
served to  life  ?  Awaking  to  such  scenes,  opening  timid  eyes 
to  such  sights,  how  fatal  must  be  her  excitement,  her  alarm ; 
what  hope  was  there  for  calmness,  sleep,  recovery  ?  There 
was  a  plan  which  might  prevent  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  till 
time  should  bring  returning  strength.  As  Paul,  in  order  to 
save  weak  sight  a  sudden  alarm,  had  dimmed  the  light,  so 
he  would  darken  truth,  to  ward  off  from  a  feeble  spirit, 
a  fearful  shock. 

He  left  his  patient's  side  cautiously,  took  from  the  table 
where  she  had  been  lying,  the  cap  which  had  been  thrown 
down  there,  tied  it  as  well  as  he  could  upon  his  own  head,  and 
crowded  his  hair  back  beneath  it  as  much  as  possible.  He 
returned,  and  began  to  spread  over  her  a  blanket  which  he 
kept  to  use  as  his  own  covering  in  morning  naps.  She  un- 
closed her  eyes. 

"Where  am  I  ?"  she  asked  feebly. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  421 

"  In  the  hospital,"  whispered  Paul. 
"  Hospital  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul,  "  you  have  been  very  sick.  There  was 
only  one  doctor  that  could  cure  you,  and  he  never  goes  away 
from  the  hospital.  Your  mother  stays  here  all  day,  and 
I  take  care  of  you  at  night  You  Ve  been  very  sick,  and  we 
did  n't  think  you  'd  ever  get  well." 

She  closed  her  eyes  again,  and  seemed  to  fall  into  a  little 
doze  ;  trusting  to  the  story,  as  it  seemed,  more  through  weak- 
ness to  disbelieve  it,  than  because  it  would  bear  any  analysis. 
Paul  took  the  opportunity  to  walk  back  to  the  cabinet  at  the 
distant  end  of  the  room,  one  shelf  of  which  he  knew  was  ap- 
propriated to  certain  medicines,  chiefly  such  as  were  likely  to 
be  useful  in  the  accidental  wounds  which  students  of  anatomy 
frequently  receive.  He  knew  that  he  should  find  some 
brandy  there,  and  hoped  there  might  be  wine.  Groping 
over  the  shelf,  and  bringing  some  half  dozen  vials  to  light,  he 
found  both,  as  well  as  a  crooked  teaspoon,  which  he  thought 
would  be  seviceable  in  lieu  of  a  straight  one.  Returning  to 
the  sofa,  he  knelt  down  before  his  patient,  and  administered  a 
few  teaspoonfuls  of  wine. 

"  What  are  those  ?"  she  asked,  faintly,  indicating  by  a 
movement  of  the  eyes  that  she  meant  the  anatomical  tables 
and  their  occupants. 

"  Those,"  said  Paul,  turning  the  sofa  more  directly  in  front 
of  the  fire,  so  as  to  bring  them  behind  her,  "  those  are  beds, 
with  the  sick  people  in  them." 

The  darkened  gas-light  conspired  with  him  to  deceive  her 
careless,  feeble  glance.  Paul  saw  she  was  satisfied,  and  his 
hope  to  keep  the  secret  from  her,  rose.  He  continued  to 


422 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


kneel  before  her,  giving  her  from  time  to  time  a  little  wine. 
It  was  all  he  could  do. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  she  gently  inquired,  after  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes  had  thus  passed. 

"  I  'm  one  of  the  sisters,"  was  the  whispered  reply. 

"  Not  my  sister,"  said  she,  looking  at  her  attendant  more 
intently. 

"  No,  my  dear,  a  Sister  of  Charity,"  said  Paul,  drawing  his 
black  gown  around  his  throat  so  as  to  give  him  the  most 
matronly  air  possible,  "  I  nurse  here." 

If  the  dull  ear  fully  caught  his  meaning,  the  weary  heart 
felt  no  distrust,  and  she  questioned  him  no  further. 

At  length,  from  dozing  and  waking  alternately,  Frederica 

fnto  a  sound  and  quiet  sleep.  Paul  sat  by  her,  holding 
wrist  and  watching  her  pulse.  It  seemed  slowly  to 
strengthen.  Oh,  if  that  sleep  could  only  last  till  daylight,  the 
waking  might  be  to  life. 

At  last,  about  five  o'clock,  Paul  heard  the  janitor  whistling 
his  way  up  stairs  ;  it  was  his  first  morning  duty  to  release  the 
imprisoned  student.  Paul  stood  at  the  door  to  silence  him 
as  soon  as  possible.  The  janitor  unlocked  and  opened  it. 

"  Hush,"  said  Paul,  "  hush — the  young  lady  they  brought 
in  last  night  is  alive." 

Hugh  stared. 

"  Is  it  alive  she  is  ?"  he  exclaimed,  gazing  at  the  sofa.  "  Oh 
the  thaif  of  the  wor-rld,  to  sell  a  live  corpse  to  a  dissictin' 
room  P 

"  Hush  !"  said  Paul,  «  she 's  asleep." 

Hugh  screwed  up  his  mouth  very  tight  and  opened  his 
eyes  very  wide,  and  stood  very  still,  waiting  for  instructions. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  423 

These  were  soon  given.  They  were,  to  go  up  to  Dr.  Cod- 
berry's  house,  to  bring  him  down  to  the  college,  and  to  be 
quick  about  it,  so  as  to  get  him  there,  if  possible,  before  the 
young  lady  woke  up. 

This  was  readily  accomplished.  In  half  an  hour  Dr.  Cod- 
berry  was  there.  And  not  long  afterward,  the  young  lady,  her 
sleep  now  strengthened  by  an  opiate,  was  gently  carried  home 
in  a  comfortable  litter ;  one  which  was  kept  at  hand  to  convey 
patients  from  the  clinique  upon  emergency,  and  which  was 
labeled  in  great  red  letters,  "  FROM  THE  MEDICAL  COLLEGE," 
to  the  end  that  those  who  passed  it  upon  the  sidewalks  might 
avoid  jostling  it. 

Jason,  rising  earlier  than  was  customary  with  most  of  the 
inmates  of  the  Chesslebury  mansion,  heard  the  door-bell  ring 
with  a  nervous  jerk,  and  wondering  who  was  there  so  early  in 
the  morning,  looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw  Paul  Rundle 
standing"  on  the  door-step,  and  two  men  coming  up  the  street 
bearing  the  litter  gently  between  them.  Wondering  again 
what  brought  Paul,  and  scarcely  as  yet  noticing  the  litter, 
Jason,  forgetful  of  the  proprieties  of  life,  hastened  down  stairs, 
himself,  to  let  him  in. 

The  story  of  his  sister's  safety  was  soon  told.  Mother  was 
awakened.  Servants  were  aroused.  Frederica's  room,  which 
remained  exactly  as  she  had  left  it,  was  thrown  open,  and  she 
was  carried  in.  Before  Paul  left  the  house,  he  had  the  sat- 
isfaction of  seeing  her  in  full  consciousness,  weak  still,  but  se- 
cure from  danger. 

As  Paul  hastened  to  recitation,  or  as  he  termed  it,  to 
"  quiz,"  after  breakfast,  which,  at  Jason's  earnest  solicitation, 
he  consented  to  take  at  the  Chesslebury  mansion,  he  occupied 


424  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

himself  with  thinking  of  the  scenes  of  the  night  previous. 
And  he  took  himself  to  task  for  the  deception  he  had  prac- 
ticed. 

"  Bundle,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  you  're  a  young  man  of 
good  moral  principle,  I  think.  I  declare  I  didn't  know 
you  could  lie  so  in  an  emergency.  I  wond«r  what  mother 
would  think  of  it.  Let  me  see — how  many  fibs  did  I  tell 
her? 

"  Why,  first  I  told  her  she  was  in  the  hospital.  Whopper 
number  one. 

"  Then  I  said  that  her  mother  came  to  take  care  of  her  all 
day.  Whopper  number  two. 

"  Then  I  said  the  tables  were  beds  with  sick  people  in  them. 
Number  three. 

"  Then  I  told  her  that  I  was  a  Sister  of  Charity.  That  was 
unmitigated.  A  Sister  of  Charity  with  a  goatee !  Number 
four  was  worse  than  all  the  rest. 

"  And  then — I  wonder  if  I  said  any  thing  that  was  true,  ex- 
cept that  she  had  been  very  sick.  That  was  all  right,  I  guess. 
I  don't  believe  though  it  could  be  any  thing  very  wrong. 
She  couldn't  have  lived,  poor  girl,  if  I  had  told  her  the 
truth ; — I  don't  think." 

Paul  related  the  whole  matter  with  great  particularity  to 
Dr.  Codberry.  The  doctor  did  not  seem  however  to  be  at  all 
inclined  to  disapprove  his  conduct.  He  spoke  of  discretion, 
ingenuity,  skill,  presence  of  mind,  but  said  nothing  whatever 
about  falsehood.  Indeed  he  praised  Paul  more  for  his  in- 
genuity, as  he  called  it,  than  for  any  thing  else ;  and  his  com- 
mendations were,  in  this  respect,  supported  by  those  of  the 
other  professors.  And  through  Dr.  Codberry,  the  story  grow- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  425 

ing  public,  Paul  went  by  the  name  of  "  Sister  Bundle"  for  the 
entire  remainder  of  his  medical  course. 

Meanwhile  Paul  visited  •  daily  the  Chesslebury  mansion. 
Who  was  Miss  Frederick's  regular  physician  we  do  not  know. 
If  it  was  he  who  made  the  most  frequent,  and  the  longest 
visits,  it  was  Paul  Rundle.  And  we  believe,  and  Miss 
Frederica  thought  so  too,  that  his  visits  did  her  the  most 
good. 

They  undoubtedly  cost  the  least. 

One  pleasant  sunny  morning,  after  Frederica  had  grown  now 
much  stronger  and  better,  and  really  seemed  hardly  to  need 
professional  visits  once  a  day,  Paul  prescribed  a  short  ride  for 
her.  He  thought  it  would  do  her  good,  he  said.  And 
Freddie,  like  a  good  and  obedient  patient  as  she  was,  made 
no  complaints  at  this  prescription,  unpleasant  though  it  must 
have  been. 

Jason  very  much  regretted  that  business  engagements  down 
town  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  go  out  to-day,  but  if 
Paul  could  only  spare  an  hour  or  two  from  his  studies — and 
as  he  said  it  the  slightest  possible  smile  lurked  in  each  corner 
of  his  mouth. 

"  Paul  would  be  very  happy,"  he  said. 

And  if  it  be  possible  to  judge  at  all  from  the  expression 
of  Paul's  countenance  when  the  ride — which  was  not  a  very 
short  one — was  over,  Paul  was  very  happy. 

"Whether  the  ride  was  beneficial  to  Frederica  or  not,  is  a 
question  upon  which  it  is  not  so  easy  to  express  an  opinion. 
Her  cheeks  appeared  improved  in  color  on  her  return,  it  is 
true  ;  and  this  would  indicate  that  the  ride  had  had  a  favora- 
ble effect,  although  it  might  have  been  only  the  temporary  re- 


426  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

suit  of  going  out  into  the  open  air.  But,  upon  the  other 
Land,  it  was  noticed  that,  in  stepping  into  the  house  from  the 
chaise,  she  leaned  more  heavily  upon  Paul's  arm  than  she  did. 
when  she  came  out ;  this  may  have  been  from  increased  weak- 
ness, or  only  from  a  slight  fatigue.  True,  she  went  to  ride 
with  Paul  several  times  afterward,  but  she  may  have  done  so, 
either  because  the  first  experiment  was  successful,  or  because 
she  did  not  experience  from  it  all  the  good  effects  which  were 
anticipated. 

This  is  one  of  those  nice  historical  questions  which  can 
never  be  accurately  determined. 

For  further  particulars  we  must  refer  to  the  New  York 
papers  of  the  year  1855.  Probably  one  might  search  the 
newspapers  of  our  country  in  vain  for  another  instance  in 
which  a  young  lady's  death  was  announced  in  one  year,  and 
her  marriage  published  the  next.  ' 


XXXI. 


TO  JUNE   1,   1855. 


TIME  flies 
fast.  One  trav- 
eler only  can 
overtake  it ; — 
that  is  the  his- 
torian's pen. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  very  Present ;  and  it  becomes 
our  only  remaining  duty  to  look  about  us  from  our  home  in 
Cone  Cut  Corners,  and  to  jot  down  the  positions  and  prospects 
of  those  with  whom  this  history  has  chiefly  had  to  do. 

Mournful  indeed  are  the  scenes  which,  in  the  performance 
of  this  task,  we  have  to  contemplate.  For  the  consequences 
of  the  enactment  in  Connecticut  of  that  despotic  and  uncon- 
stitutional statute  known  as  the  Prohibitory  Law,  were  so  dis- 
astrous, and  its  effects  upon  the  welfare  and  interests  of  the 
friends  whose  history  we  h.ave  narrated,  were  so  serious,  that 


428  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

we  have  not  the  heart  to  dwell  upon  them.  Yet  the  duty  of 
the  historian  is  a  sacred  duty ;  that  has  been  admitted  by  all 
writers  of  history.  He  must  tell  the  whole  truth,  however 
painful. 

Far  happier  for  us  would  it  be,  if  we  could  leave  Captain 
Mayferrie  in  the  full  possession  of  his  constitutional  liberties, 
and  of  the  hand-cart  whereon  he  was  drawn  home  from  the 
evening  assemblage  of  the  citizens.  Far  happier  if  in  our  last 
glimpse  of  Gregory  Donoe,  we  could  see  him  in  the  full  en- 
joyment and  unrestricted  exercise  of  his  lawful  business,  un- 
forbidden  to  pour  out  now  and  then,  for  the  red-nosed  man,  a 
cheering  glass  of  some  beverage,  such  as  is  wholesome  when 
taken  in  moderation.  Far  happier,  if  bidding  the  ex-deacon  a 
cordial  farewell,  we  could  leave  him  still  laboring  effectively 
in  the  field  of  moral  suasion.  But  these  things  can  not  be. 
The  blighting  influence  of  a  fanatical  and  oppressive  legisla- 
tion forbids. 

That  influence  was  first  felt  in  Cone  Cut  Corners,  in  its 
effects  upon  the  business  carried  on  by  Gregory  Donoe. 

Not  long  after  the  measures  advocated  by  the  tyrannical 
minority  had  attained  a  temporary  success  and  an  imperma- 
iiant  position  in  the  statute-book,  the  row  of  casks,  the  old 
familiar  casks,  which  for  years  had  ornamented  one  side  of 
Gregory's  store,  disappeared.  Innocent  customers,  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  their  hearts,  wondered  at  the  storekeeper's  prompt 
submission  to  the  law,  and  gave  him  all  due  praise  therefor. 
But  rumor  said  that  the  back-room  of  his  store,  that  very 
room  which  Captain  Mayferrie  visited  in  December,  1835, 
seeking  for  vinegar  and  molasses,  now  contained  casks  of 
stronger  fluids ;  and  fanatical  suspicion,  attentive  to  this  sug- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  429 

gestion  of  rumor,  kept  a  sharp  eye  on  the  dealings  of  the  mer- 
chant. 

For  some  time  the  evening  soirees  which  in  the  by-gone 
days  of  freedom,  had  been  held  around  Gregory  Donoe's  stove, 
were  more  quietly  conducted  than  of  old.  And  for  some 
months  the  fanatics  gave  him  no  trouble.  Indeed  he  gave 
the  fanatics  no  trouble.  For  although  his  store  was  looked 
upon  with  suspicion,  and  although  scarcely  any  of  the  ladies 
of  Cone  Cut  were  willing  to  purchase  there  if  they  could  ob- 
tain what  they  wanted  at  Colonel  Willick's,  and  many  of  them 
indeed  refused  to  purchase  there  at  all,  and  although  the  red- 
nosed  man  and  his  companions  "continued  to  frequent  the 
store,  and  to  sun  themselves  in  the  doorway  as  before,  and 
although  the  atmosphere  of  the  establishment  continued  to  be 
usually  more  suggestive  than  fragrant,  yet  notwithstanding  all 
this,  the  place  was  ordinarily  more  quiet,  the  laughter  less 
loud,  the  hilarity  less  high-toned,  the  profanity  less  profound, 
than  heretofore.  Thus  for  a  time  the  current  of  Mr.  Donoe's 
affairs  ran  smoothly. 

Smoothly,  that  is  to  say,  in  external  appearance.  It  was 
from  the  very  outset  perceptible  to  the  storekeeper  himself, 
though  not  to  the  eye  of  a  stranger,  that  his  interests  were 
seriously  prejudiced  by  -the  success  which  fanaticism  had 
achieved. 

For  example,  in  consequence  of  the  check  and  restraint  now 
imposed  upon  that  branch  of  his  business  from  which  his 
chief  profits  had  been  derived,  he  was  compelled  to  follow  the 
example  of  his  brother  landlords  of  the  cities,  and  announce 
a  rise  in  his  hotel  charges.  And  thereafter  temperance-men 
stopping  at  his  house — for  it  was  the  only  public  house  in  the 


430  CONK     CUT     CORNERS. 

village — were  compelled  to  pay  a  full  price  for  their  accommo- 
dations, and  were  further  deprived  of  the  company  of  the  jol- 
liest  set  of  good  fellows  in  town.  • 

And  beside  this,  Gregory  Donoe  was  no  longer  enabled  by 
the  profits  derived  from  his  "lawful  business,"  to  undersell 
Colonel  Willick  in  those  more  substantial  articles  of  traffic 
which  both  merchants  kept  for  sale,  in  common.  Thus  that 
competition  which  has  been  said  to  be  the  life  of  trade — and 
which  is  not  unfrequently  seen  to  be  the  death  of  traders — 
was  unseasonably  checked  in  Cone  Cut  Corners,  and  business 
stagnated,  and  times  were  hard — with  Gregoiy  Donoe. 

These  things  were  not  so  perceptible,  however,  to  general 
observation,  as  to  the  merchant  himself.  But,  at  length,  in 
an  evil  hour,  emboldened  by  his  freedom  from  interruption  in 
business  for  several  months,  and  confiding  in  his  natural  and 
constitutional  rights,  that  entertainer  of  man  and  beast,  one 
evening  entertained  the  red-nosed  gentleman  until  he  made  a 
beast  of  him,  and  then  thrust  him  out  of  doors  for  creating 
disorder  in  the  store.  The  consequence  of  this  was,  that  a 
party  of  the  fanatics,  incited  by  Calick  Pease,  pounced  upon 
the  red-nosed  gentleman  as  he  lay  quietly  reposing  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  constitutional 
liberties,  and  bore  him  away  to  jail.  There  he  was  compelled, 
by  duress  of  imprisonment,  to  disclose  the  name  of  his  enter- 
tainer, which  he  did,  it  must  be  confessed,  without  much 
show  of  reluctance.  This  information  having  been  obtained, 
and  some  trifling  forms  of  law  having  been  gone  through, 
such  as  making  affidavits,  obtaining  legal  process,  and  the 
like,  the  party  of  fanatics,  accompanied  by  an  executive  tyrant, 
known  as  the  sheriff,  proceeded  the  next  morning  to  the  store 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  431 

of  Gregory  Donoe  with  the  open  and  avowed  purpose  of  de- 
stroying his  lawful  property. 

Captain  Mayferrie  coming  down  the  hill  into  the  village, 
meets  this  company  of  disorganizes  on  their  way.  He  bids 
Calick  good  morning,  and  shakes  hands  with  him,  at  which 
Calick  is  much  surprised ;  and  he  asks  the  party  where  they 
are  going.  Or,  as  his  own  expression  is  : — 

"What's  the  fun?" 

The  party,  regarding  the  Captain  as  probably  a  friend  and 
supporter  of  their  intended  victim,  try  to  evade  his  question. 
But  the  Captain  is  not  a  man  to  be  easily  evaded;  so  at 
length  with  some  hesitation,  they  disclose  to  him  their  plans. 

"  Good  !"  says  he,  "  count  me  in  for  that." 

So  they  all  proceed  together.  The  Captain  walks  by  the 
side  of  Calick,  the  sheriff  and  the  red-nosed  man  go  arm  in 
arm,  several  other  fanatics  follow,  and  a  little  crowd  of  boys 
bring  up  the  rear.  In  this  order  they  reach  Gregory  Donoers 
store.  They  here  find  the  merchant  standing  in  his  own  door- 
way, taking  the  benefit  of  the  morning  sun. 

"  Good  morning,  gentlemen,"  he  says,  as  they  file  up  before 
his  door,  "  what  can  I  do  for  you  to-day  ?" 

Captain  Mayferrie  appoints  himself  spokesman,  inducts  him- 
self into  oifice,  and  proceeds  to  the  performance  of  his  duties. 

"  We  want  to  get,"  he  says,  "  some  first-rate  old  Cognac. 
Some  genuine,  you  know.  And  a  good  quantity.  I  should  n't 
wonder  if  we  would  take  ah1  you  Ve  got.  But  you  must  let 
us  have  it  cheap,  you  know, — seeing  it 's  us,"  the  Captain 
adds. 

"  Have  n't  got  no  Conyack,"  replies  Gregory  Donoe,  gruffly. 

He  stretches  out  his  legs,  and  puts  his  arms  akimbo  against 


432  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

the  door-posts,  and  so  stands,  to  guard  the  sacredness  of  his 
threshold  to  the  last. 

"Well,"  says  the  Captain,  cheerfully,  "that's  bad,  but 
we  '11  try  to  bear  it.  Some  first  quality  New  England  would 
do  just  about  as  well — indeed,  quite  as  well." 

"  Have  n't  got  no  New  England,"  replies  Gregory,  no  more 
amiably  than  before. 

"Why,  my  dear  fellow,"  remonstrates  the  Captain, 
jocularly,  "  you  don't  know  your  own  store  as  well  as  I  do." 

And  the  party  draw  closer  forward  to  enter  the  door. 

"  Now,  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is,"  the  merchant  commences, 
with  much  decision,  "  this  is  n't  any  use.  I  know  what  you 
want,  and  you  can't  have  it.  I  've  a  right  to  sell  what  I 
please,  and  I'm  a  going  to  sell  what  I  please,  and  what's 
more,  I  'd  like  to  see  the  man  that  '11  try  to  stop  me.  I 
know  who  's  at  the  bottom  of  this  thing.  Where 's  Willick  ? 
I  don't  wonder  he  's  ashamed  to  show  his  head.  No  you 
don't,  Captain." 

This  last  sentence  is  uttered  in  reply  to  an  endeavor,  on  the 
part  of  the  Captain,  to  enter  the  store.  He  answers  it  by 
striking  down  Mr.  Donoe's  arm,  and  pushing  in.  The  mer- 
chant strives  to  thrust  the  intruder  back.  The  Captain  lifts 
him  off  his  feet,  and  sets  him  down  upon  the  counter. 

"  You  be  quiet,"  he  says. 

The  executive  tyrant,  the  red-nosed  man,  and  a  few  others 
of  the  party,  follow  the  Captain  into  the  store.  Calick 
remains  at  the  door  to  keep  out  the  crowd. 

"  This  'ere  's  a  pretty  piece  of  lawlessness  for  respectable 
men,  like  you,  to  be  mixed  up  in,  is  n't  it  ?"  inquires  Gregory, 
sitting  very  still  where  the  Captain  has  placed  him.  "Do 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  433 

you  suppose  I  'm  a  going  to  submit  to  it  1  To  come  into  the 
store  of  a  peaceable  citizen  like  me,  and  offer  me  personal 
violence,  and  put  me  in  bodily  fear  ?  Do  you  think  I  'm 
going  to  sit  still,  like  a  fool,  and  bear  it?"  continues  the  mer- 
chant, still  sitting  on  the  counter,  and  looking,  it  must  be 
confessed,  not  unlike  one.  "  I  tell  you  what,  if  you  think 
so,  you  don't  know  who  you  Ve  got  to  deal  with,  if  you  do, 
I '11  be " 

And  the  storekeeper  completes  his  sentence  with  a  pro- 
phecy, which,  although  not  unlikely  to  be  fulfilled,  we  will 
not  record,  even  for  the  sake  of  accrediting  so  upright 
and  honest  a  man  as  Gregory  Donoe,  with  far-sighted  sa- 
gacity. 

"  You  'd  better  keep  quiet,"  says  the  Captain,  in  an  ad- 
visory manner. 

"  I  tell  you,  I  won't  keep  quiet,"  returns  Gregory  Donoe, 
sharply,  "  I  won't  sit  quietly  by,  and  submit  to  such  a  thing. 
What  do  you  mean  by  breaking  into  a  man's  store  in  this 
style,  eh  1  I  wonder  you  ain't  ashamed  of  yourselves ;  you 
are,  I  know  you  are." 

And  so  strongly  does  the  merchant  feel  the  disgrace  which 
attaches  to  the  conduct  of  his  fellow-townsmen,  that  he  sits 
quietly  where  the  Captain  has  placed  him,  and  hangs  his  own 
honest  head  in  very  shame. 

In  the  meantime,  the  red-nosed  man,  who  takes  great 
interest  in  the  proceedings,  and  is  in  a  high  state  of  excite- 
ment, has  explained  to  the  executive  tyrant,  that  the  "  lawful 
property"  of  Gregory  Donoe  fc  chiefly  kept  in  the  back-room 
of  the  store,  and  has  pointed  tint  to  him  the  entrance.  They 

try  the  door.     It  is  locked. 

19 


434  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

»  "  We  shall  have  to  knock  it  in,"  says  the  Captain,  taking  up, 
suggestively,  an  ax ;— one  of  Gregory's  own  axes. 

"  Not  quite  so  fast,"  says  the  sheriff,  "  let  me  speak  to  Mr, 
Donoe  first." 

So  he  comes  back  to  "where  the  merchant  sits  flushed  and 
heated  upon  his  counter.  When  he  speaks  to  him  he  speaks 
very  slowly  and  distinctly. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Donoe,  you  can  do  just  which  you  like.  You 
can  either  submit  quietly  and  give  up  what  liquor  you  've  got 
on  your  premises,  or  you  can  refuse,  and  then  we  shall  have 
to  take  it.  If  you  give  it  up,  you  save  us  trouble,  and  get 
yourself  out  of  a  scrape.  If  we  have  to  take  it,  we  shall  take 
you  along  with  it.  That 's  all." 

"  You  can't  do  it,"  says  Gregory,  doggedly.  "  If  I  've  got 
any  liquor  it 's  mine,  and  you  can't  touch  it  It 's  private 
property ;  and  you  can't  take  it  for  public  use  without  com- 
pensation." 

v"  That 's  just  it,"  says  Captain  Mayferrie,  putting  aside  this 
constitutional  argument,  plagiarised  from  Esquire  Blote,  "  we 
ain't  a  going  to  take  your  liquor  for  public  use,  we  're  going 
to  take  it  to  prevent  its  public  use." 

"  You  can't  do  it,"  the  merchant  reiterates.  "  It 's-  property. 
You  can't  destroy  property." 

"  Now  I  think,"  says  the  Captain,  good-humoredly,  "  that 
property  's  about  the  only  thing  you  can  destroy." 

"  Who  cares  what  you  think  ?"  retorts  the  merchant,  ad- 
dressing himself  sharply  to  the  Captain,  "  a  man  that  darsen't 
live  under  his  own  name,  and  lets  his  daughter  grow  up  ou 
other  folks'  charity.  Who  cares  .what  such  a  fellow  as  you 
thinks  ?" 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  435 

The  Captain  winces  at  this  thrust,  and  turns  away,  fol- 
lowed by  the  kindly  eyes  of  Calick. 

"  Well,  well,"  says  the  executive  tyrant,  "  we  understand 
each  other.  You  won't  give  up  the  liquor,  and  yen  say  you 
have  n't  got  any.  Very  good.  First,  then,  I  've  got  a  war- 
rant to  arrest  you,  and  search  your  store.  And  you  're  my 
prisoner,  to  begin  with." 

And  the  sheriff,  exhibiting  a  legal-looking  document, 
half  printed,  half  written,  to  the  eyes  of  the  bewildered  mer- 
chant, clasps  with  his  left  hand  Gregory's  right  arm,  midway 
between  the  elbow  and  the  shoulder,  and  so  holds  him. 

"  Second,  I  want  the  key  to  that  door." 

"  There  's  nothing  in  there." 

"  That 's  nothing  to  the  purpose,  I  want  the  key." 

"  You  can't  have  the  key." 

"  Knock  it  open,  Captain." 

The  Captain  swings  the  ax  round  in  the  air  to  give  it  mo- 
mentum, and  brings  it  once  and  again  heavily  against  the 
door  by  the  lock.  The  Captain  is  a  stout  man,  and  two  blows 
bring  the  door  open. 

The  merchant  pushes  his  hat  back  from  his,  forehead,  and 
with  a  red  bandana  handkerchief  wipes  his  brow.  It  is  not  a 
warm  day,  but  the  perspiration  stands  there  in  large  drops. 

"  For  God's  sake  don't,  gentlemen.  I  '11  do  any  thing  you 
want.  I  '11  send  that  liquor  right  off,  this  week — to-day — thi.s 
morning.  I  never  '11  sell  another  drop  in  town.  On  my 
word  and  honor,  gentlemen,  I  never  will." 

They  pay  no  attention  to  his  expostulations,  but  roll  the 
casks  out  to  the  front  door,  one  by  one.  The  work  is  done 
very  quietly,  the  crowd  being  still  kept  in  the  street  by 


436  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Calick.  It  is  curious  to  notice  with  what  interest  Jerry 
watches  this  invasion  of  the  commercial  interests  of  Cone  Cut 
Corners. 

"  You  're  a  precious,  prying,  sneaking,  spying  set,"  says 
Gregory,  breaking  out  again.  "  You  shall  rue  this ;  every 
mother's  son  of  you.  Things  is  come  to  a  pretty  pass  when  a 
man  is  a  going  to  be  robbed  of  his  property  in  this  style. 
We  '11  see— that 's  all." 

Gregory  Donoe,  in  his  most  polite  and  amiable  conversa- 
tion, was  never  particularly  shy  of  an  occasional  oath.  Now 
he  invokes  upon  the  heads  of  all  present,  both  individually 
and  collectively,  more  curses  than  we  are  willing  to  record. 

The  casks  being  at  length  all  rolled  out,  the  sheriff,  still 
holding  Gregory  familiarly  by  the  arm,  conducts  him  down 
the  street,  having  previously  made  arrangements  for  the  tem- 
porary care  of  the  liquor,  until  the  judgment  of  the  law  re- 
specting its  final  disposal  shall  be  known.  Without  particu- 
larly describing  the  legal  proceedings  taken  for  the  purpose 
of  arriving  at  that  judgment,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  they 
result  in  the  imposition  of  a  fine  upon  Gregory,  which  he  sul- 
lenly pays  to  protect  the  Constitution  from  being  further  vio- 
lated by  his  personal  incarceration,  and  also  in  a  decree  for 
the  destruction  of  the  liquor  found  in  his  possession.  And 
accordingly  one  morning  in  early  spring,  the  casks  are 
rolled  out  upon  the  village  common,  and  there  are  roughly 
beaten  in  pieces,  their  contents  flowing  out  upon  the  green 


And  to  this  day  the  spot — a  round  spot  it  is,  about  a  rod 
across — is  noticeable  in  the  Cone  Cut  Common.  It  looks 
like  a  sort  of  churchyard ;  every  drop  there  buried  has  its 


CONE     CUT     COBNERS.  437 

tombstone,  a  blade  of  rusty,  dead  and  withered  grass.  Else- 
where the  common  is  bright  and  green,  and  smiles  and  rustles 
in  the  sun  of  opening  June ;  but  there  the  round  spot  lies, 
dead  and  discolored,  as  if  to  show  what  devastation  unre- 
strained fanaticism  works — or  meaning,  it  may  be,  to  teach 
that  other  lesson,  that  nature  loathes  and  scorns  perversions  of 
her  gifts  to  man.  There  the  round,  red  spot  lies ;  and  the 
worms  will  not  burrow  in  it,  and  the  caterpillars  scorn  to 
crawl  across  it,  and  the  grasshoppers  that  happen  to  alight 
upon  it,  leap  to  one  side  with  a  warning  chirp  to  all  their 
kind,  exhorting  them  to  come  not  near  it,  and  of  all  the 
voices  of  nature,  and  of  all  the  creatures  of  God's  making, 
two  only  ever  lamented  over  it  These  were  Esquire  Blote 
and  Gregory  Donoe,  who  leaned  against  the  fence  one  night 
to  gaze  upon  it ;  and  the  one  said  that  the  law  was  unconsti- 
tutional, and  a  gross  invasion  of  the  natural  rights  of  man, 
meaning  man's  right  to  pour  a  blight  over  the  whole  life  and 
prospects  of  his  fellow-man ;  and  the  other  cursed  it  for  an 
infernal  humbug. 

Esquire  Blote  is  still  a  dweller  in  Cone  Cut  Corners ;  but 
Gregory  Donoe  is  no  longer  numbered  among  its  citizens. 
Of  course  no  man,  however  useful  in  the  community,  can  be 
expected  to  maintain  his  position  in  spite  of  the  wanton  de- 
struction of  his  lawful  and  constitutional  property.  The 
storekeeper  having  found  himself  entirely  unable  to  pro- 
tect his  obnoxious  goods  from  a  legalized  plunder,  and  being 
a  man  of  that  firmness  of  moral  character,  which  can  not  sub- 
mit even  for  convenience's  sake  to  iniquity  and  oppression, 
was  finally  forced  to  sell  out  his  place,  and  remove  to  a  more 
liberal  and  enlightened  State,  to  wit,  New  Jersey ;  where, 


438  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

within  convenient  distance  of  the  city  of  New  York,  he  has 
bought  him  a  large  distillery,  which  he  conducts  in  con- 
nection with  an  extensive  dairy.  The  present  age  ignores 
fastidious  prejudice,  and  it  is  found  that  cows  who  have  be- 
come antiquated,  and  have  even  outgrown  the  requisite 
qualifications  for  city  beef,  are  readily  recruited,  and  have  the 
freshness  of  their  youth  renewed,  by  a  judicious  course  of 
fluid  diet  in  the  precincts  of  a  distillery.  Gregory  Donoe, 
aware  of  this  principle,  and  in  the  charity  of  his  heart  wish- 
ing well  to  all  creatures,  has  accordingly  founded  an  asylum, 
or  one  might  say  hospital,  for  aged,  respectable  and  indigent 
bovine  females,  and  he  has  caused  to  be  painted  upon  the  car- 
riages of  that  institution,  its  title  in  full :  "  G.  Donoe's  Pure 
Orange  County  Milk  Dairy."  These  carriages  may  be  seen 
in  the  city  every  morning. 

This  is  but  another  note  of  the  universal  voice  of  warning 
against  fanatical  and  unconstitutional  principles.  For  should 
the  State  of  New  Jersey  ever  pass  a  Jaw  which  should  inter- 
fere with  these  dear  rights  of  their  adopted  son,  and  others 
engaged  in  the  same  honorable  calling,  hundreds  of  hungry 
infants  would  be  cut  off  from  their  daily  supply  of  the  Pure 
Orange  County  Milk  of  G.  Donoe,  and  the  aged,  respectable, 
and  indigent  inmates  of  his  establishment  will  be  thrown  out 
of  their  last  asylum,  and  brought  to  their  end  without  even 
the  temporary  respite  which  the  nourishing  diet  of  charity 
now  bestows. 

As  for  Mr.  Ficksom,  the  ex-deacon,  he  was  not  the  man  to 
desert  his  post  in  defending  great  moral  principles,  tinder  the 
influence  of  mere  worldly  considerations.  He  regretted  that 


CONE     CUT     COUNEUS.  439 

the  town  must  lose  the  presence,  influence  and  name  of  so  re- 
spectable a  citizen  as  Mr.  Gregory  Donoe,  but  that  individual 
considering  it  necessary  that  he  should  remove,  the  ex-deacon 
bought  out  his  store  and  his  stock  of  such  goods  as  remained 
yet  unthreatened  by  sumptuary  legislation,  together  with  his 
hotel  and  the  goodwill  of  the  same ;  and  thereupon,  to  the 
end  that  he  might  be  enabled  the  more  effectually  to  render 
judicious  service  to  the  cause  of  temperance,  exerted  him- 
self diligently  in  electioneering  for  the  office  of  town  agent 
under  the  new  law. 

Having  succeeded  in  securing  this  appointment,  not  so  much 
indeed  on  account  of  any  sincere  esteem  in  which  he  was  held 
in  Cone  Cut  Corners,  as  by  reason  that  there  was  no  other  trad- 
er in  the  town  who  possessed  that  degree  of  public  spirit  that 
rendered  him  willing  to  take  the  agency,  Mr.  Ficksom  posted 
notices  of  the  fact  throughout  the  village,  announcing  to  his 
fellow-townsmen  that  the  undersigned  had  become  the  suc- 
cessor of  Mr.  Gregory  Donoe,  and  that  the  business  lately 
earned  on  by  that  gentleman  would  be  continued  at  his  old 
stand,  its  scope  being  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  a  well-as- 
sorted stock  of  drugs  and  medicines,  including  the  articles 
which,  as  town  agent,  he  the  undersigned  alone  was  authorized 
to  dispense.  This  proclamation  having  been  judiciously  cir- 
culated, the  ex-deacon  resolved  to  visit  New  York,  to  purchase 
additions  to  his  stock  in  trade,  with  especial  reference  to  sup- 
plying the  deficiency  occasioned  by  the  destruction  of  his  pre- 
decessor's lawful  property.  Taking  his  departure  from  Cone 
Cut  in  pursuance  of  this  resolution,  he  arrived  in  the  city  in 
due  course  of  time. 

As  the  ex-deacon  was  passing  down  Broadway,  soon  after 


440  CONE    CUT    CORNERS. 

his  arrival,  in  search  of  the  several  stores  where  he  had  been 
advised  to  make  his  purchases,  liis  attention  was  caught  by  a 
large  placard  upon  the  windows  of  a  respectable  and  even 
venerable  store,  wherefrom  it  appeared  that  the  firm  of  Bag- 
glehall,  Floric  &  Co.,  were  selling  out  their  large  and  well- 
selected  stock  of  wines  and  liquors,  at  a  great  sacrifice,  "  To 
CLOSE  THE  CONCERN." 

"Aha,"  said  the  ex-deacon,  "<  at  a  sacrifice.*  I  like  that, 
I  '11  go  in.  Prices  '11  be  low  here." 

He  accordingly  entered  the  store.  A  salesman,  the  success- 
or of  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Hj^eocks,  came  forward  with  great 
courtesy  to  meet  him. 

".Good  morning,"  said  Mr,  Ficksom,  returning  the  polite 
bow  of  the  salesman,  and  wondering  if  they  had  ever  met  be- 
fore, since  the  man  seemed  to  know  him  so  well. 

The  salesman  affably  returned  the  salutation. 

"  Well.     I  see  you  're  a  selling  off." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  successor  of  the  lamented  Hococks,  smiling 
sadly.  "  We  're  selling  off.  At  a  tremendous  sacrifice.  To 
close  the  concern." 

And  the  salesman  raised  his  hand  toward  the  solemn  pla- 
cards which  were  hung  upon  every  available  point  and  pinna- 
cle within  the  store,  announcing  the  fatal  rite. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  the  ex-deacon,  and  his  face  expressed 
a  concise  tract  upon  the  evil  effects  of  sumptuary  laws. 
"  You  've  got  the  pr'hibitory  law  here  too,  I  understand." 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  that,"  said  the  clerk,  smiling  again  more  sadly 
still,  "  at  least  not  entirely.  It 's  in  consequence  of  the  death 
of  our  partner,  Mr.  Floric." 

"  Lost  your  partner,  eh  ?     That 's  bad,"  said  the  ex-deacon, 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  441 

subduing  his  features,  to  give,  as  it  were,  visible  utterance  to 
a  funeral  sermon  upon  tlie  late  lamented  Mr.  Floric,  in  which 
were  summed  up  more  of  the  virtues  of  the  deceased  than  was 
to  have  been  expected,  considering  that  Mr.  Ficksom  never 
had  the  advantage  of  his  personal  acquaintance. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  clerk,  "  it 's  very  unfortunate  for  the  busi- 
ness, very  indeed." 

The  ex-deacon  repeated  the  funeral  sermon  by  special  re- 
quest, as  it  were. 

"  Hm-m-m,"  he  sighed,  gazing  slowly  around  the  store,  and 
visibly  affected  at  the  tokens  of  the  intended  sacrifice,  "  how 
are  your  prices  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  've  marked  every  thing  right  down,"  said  the 
clerk,  "  down  to  nothing  at  all,  almost." 

"  Well,"  inquired  the  ex-deacon,  "  how  much  do  you  ask 
for  good  brandy  ?" 

"  That,"  said  the  salesman,  pointing  to  a  demijohn  standing 
on  the  floor  near  by,  "  is  a  little  we  Ve  just  put  up  for  a  cus- 
tomer— for  private  use.  It 's  the  very  best.  Just  that  quality, 
exactly  that  grade,  you  'd  have  to  pay  eight  dollars  for  at  the 
druggist's.  It 's  worth  it.  We  put  it  to  him  at  four  fifty. 
We  'd  let  you  have  it  at — how  much  should  you  want  ?" 

"  Well,  I  should  want  considerable  of  a  quantity,"  said  Mr. 
Ficksom. 

"  Well,  we  'd  let  you  have  it  by  the  quantity,  say  by 
the  cask, — well,  we  'd  put  it  to  you  at  four  dollars;  and 
that's  ever  so  much  below  cost." 

As  the  original  outlay  incurred  by  the  firm  of  Bagglchall, 
Floric  &  Co.,  in  the  purchase  of  the  brandy  in  question,  did 
not  exceed  a  dollar  a  gallon,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  the 
19*  ' 


442  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 


in  estimating  its  cost,  included  in  addition  to  the 
price  paid  for  the  liquor,  a  fair  compensation  per  gallon  for 
his  own  time  and  labor  expended  in  rendering  to  it  services 
somewhat  similar  to  those  once  performed  by  Mr.  Hococks 
to  the  old  South  Side  Madeira.  And  it  is  also  probable 
that  he  included,  as  dealers  frequently  do  in  estimating  the 
cost  of  their  wares  for  the  purpose  of  computing  a  price  at 
which  they  will  sell  them  as  an  especial  favor  to  a  particular 
customer,  an  assessment  of  the  whole  sum  expended  in  the 
payment  of  freight,  interest,  rent,  storage,  insurance,  fuel, 
salaries,  personal  expenses,  and  other  items  of  cost  incurred  in 
placing  their  goods  in  the  market. 

The  ex-deacon  was,  however,  too  inexperienced  in  com- 
mercial business  to  be  yet  familiar  with  this  new  principle  of 
computation. 

"  Surely,"  said  he  to  himself,  and  he  indited  a  composition 
on  the  Advantages  of  Friendship,  and  appeared  to  present  it  to 
an  imaginary  preceptor  for  correction ;  "  this  man  knows  me, 
and  he  seems  to  be  a  friend  of  mine,  too." 

And  the  ex-deacon,  confiding  in  the  friendship  of  the  suc- 
cessor of  Mr.  Hococks,  purchased  a  cask  of  brandy,  and 
a  considerable  stock  of  other  liquors  also ;  and  with  this 
assortment  of  what  the  judicious  friends  of  temperance  class 
among  the  best  gifts  of  Providence  to  man,  he  returned  to 
Cone  Cut  Corners. 

In  Cone  Cut  he  has  now  re-opened  Mr.  Donoe's  store,  where 
he  puts  up  medical  prescriptions  for  a  great  many  persons  in 
that  region,  whose  family  medicine-chest  still  consists  of  a 
stone  jug,  or  a  brown  bottle ;  and  also  supplies  the  essentials 
in  carrying  into  effect  a  great  number  of  mechanical  purposes, 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  443 

suggested  by  the  inventive  genius  of  the  Cone  Cutters,  many 
of  which  are  highly  ingenious  and  novel. 

It  should  be  in  justice  remarked,  that  while  the  prohibitory 
law  has,  in  some  way  or  other,  occasioned  a  large  increase  in 
sickness  throughout  the  State,  it  has  certainly  also  done 
much  to  strengthen  and  develop  that  mechanical  genius  for 
which  the  people  of  Connecticut  have  always  been  so 
celebrated. 

In  respect  to  these  effects  of  that  noted  statute,  the  ex- 
deacon  and  his  family  are  sufferers  rather  than  beneficiaries. 
Whether  it  arises  from  their  removal  from  their  old  home  to 
a  strange  residence,  or  whether  the  drug  department  renders 
the  atmosphere  of  the  house  unhealthy,  we  can  not  undertake 
to  say  ;  but  the  fact  is  unquestionable,  that  Mr.  Ficksom  com- 
plains a  great  deal  of  sickness  in  his  family,  and  that  his  own 
health  is  very  poor.  Upon  further  reflection,  however,  we 
think  it  probable  that  the  unwholesome  savor  of  medicinal 
articles  is  the  cause  of  this ;  for  it  has  been  noticed  that 
many  of  the  strangers  who,  in  passing  through  the  town,  eeek 
entertainment  beneath  his  hospitable  roof  for  the  nighf, 
experience  symptoms  of  illness,  and  require  medical  treatment 
before  morning.' 

In  fact,  so  serious  in  this  respect  have  been  the  results  of 
Mr.  Ficksom's  appointment,  that  although  he  has  held  the 
office  of  town  agent  but  a  short  time,  there  are  already  many 
in  Cone  Cut  Corners  who  are  heard  to  express  the  opinion 
that  he  ought  to  be  as  soon  as  possible  relieved  from  his  oner- 
ous duties ;  and  it  is  now  rumored  in  the  village  that,  as  soon 
as  opportunity  offers,  a  new  agent  will  be  appointed. 

Let  us  hopg   for  such  a  consummation.     Then  may  the 


444  CONE     CUT    CORNERS. 

family  recover  its  wonted  health,  and  the  venerable  person  of 
so  judicious  a  friend  of  temperance  be  preserved  from  falling 'a 
sacrifice  to  the  cause. 

Jerry  Bender,  as  the  red-nosed  man  is  known  upon  the  bap- 
tismal records  of  his  native  place,  wherever  that  may  be — if 
indeed  his  name  was  conferred  in  baptism,  which  is  not  cer- 
tain— found  the  departure  of  Gregory  Donoe  an  important  era 
in  his  life. 

In  the  good  old  days  of  individual  liberty,  Jerry  had  been 
a  gentleman  of  leisure.  No  gentleman,  indeed,  ever  had  more 
leisure,  more  of  nothing  to  do,  (and  this,  it  would  appear,  is 
one  of  the  distinguishing  marks  of  the  fine  gentleman,)  than 
did  Jerry  under  the  old  system.  A  fine  gentleman  is,  in  fact,  a 
man  who  has  some  money,  and  nothing  to  do.  Jerry,  even 
in  the  palmiest  days  of  old  tunes,  never  had  so  much  money 
as  a  first  class  gentleman,  but  he  had  just  as  much  leisure. 
But  now,  from  the  condition  of  a  gentleman,  he  fell  to  that  of 
a  laborer. 

It  is  not  at  all  probable,  indeed,  that  the  mere  passage  of 
any  statute,  however  imperative  in  its  terms,  could  have 
caused  the  change  in  Jerry's  course  of  life,  which  his  judicious 
friends  have  been  so  much  grieved  to  notice.  Xor  is  it  to  be 
believed  that  the  temporary  enthusiasm  with  which  he  entered 
into  the  injudicious  projects  of  the  fanatics,  betokened  any 
permanent  change  of  purpose  at  that  time,  or  would  have 
resulted  in  any  enduring  alteration  of  character,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  timidity  of  Mr.  Donoe's  successor.  The  ex-dea- 
con, understanding  that  it  was  no  other  than  Jerry  who  had 
been  the  means  of  bringing  the  fanatics  upon  his  prede- 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  445 

cessor,  thought  it  would  be  his  safest  policy,  in  the  conduct 
of  the  agency,  to  refuse  all  applications  which  Jerry  might 
make  for  liquor,  no  matter  what  their  plausibility  or  urgency. 
He  feared,  not  unnaturally,  that  he  in  turn,  in  some  mo- 
ment of  weakness  or  indiscretion  upon  the  part  of  Jerry, 
might  be  made  a  victim  of  fanaticism. 

Accordingly,  Jerry's  oft-repeated  requests  and  demands  for 
liquor,  were  uniformly  refused  by  the  worthy  agent.  Jerry 
implored  it  for  startling  emergencies  in  medical  treatment, 
and  commanded  that  it  be  furnished  him,  for  most  unques- 
tionable mechanical  purposes,  but  in  vain.  The  ex-deacon 
was  firm. 

Becoming  convinced  of  this,  Jerry,  with  a  firmness  of  pur- 
pose which  can  not  but  be  admired,  even  in  a  gentleman,  set 
himself  at  work  to  earn  some  money.  He  did  this  at  first 
with  a  view  to  the  accumulation  of  a  fund  wherewith  to  pur- 
chase, for  his  private  use,  some  of  the  best  gifts  of  Providence 
to  man,  in  the  original  packages  of  importation ;  the  right  to 
buy  which  was,  he  understood,  constitutionally  reserved  to 
him.  But  before  his  earnings  had  reached  a  sum  sufficient 
for  that  purpose,  he  quite  relapsed  into  his  old  habits  of  in- 
dustry, devoted  his  savings  to  the  purchase  of  bread,  clothes, 
and  other  like  trifles  for  himself  and  family,  and  is  likely,  so 
far  as  the  experience  of  the  winter  indicates, 'to  occupy  con- 
tentedly, for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  the  humble  position  of 
a  laborer. 

But  how  came  Captain  Mayferrie  to  take  so  ready  and 
active  a  part  in  the  invasion  of  Mr.  Donoe's  store  ? 

The  truth,  if  it  must  be  told,  was  this.     During  the  two 


446  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

years  which  had  now  passed  away  since  Salanda  took  up  her 
residence  with  her  then  newly-discovered  father,  she  had  em- 
ployed every  means  in  her  power  to  induce  him  voluntarily  to 
surrender  the  exercise  of  his  constitutional  liberties,  and  to 
forego  the  use  of  those  very  gifts  of  Providence  which  he  most 
dearly  loved.  To  this  end  she  had  employed  entreaties,  argu- 
ments, tears,  smiles,  kindness,  solicitations — all  those  means 
which  in  their  crude  state  constitute  moral  suasion,  but  in 
their  highest,  most  perfect,  and  most  efficient  exercise,  are 
known  as  Woman's  influence.  Her  efforts,  however,  had  been 
of  little  avail  to  change  the  Captain's  course,  so  long  as  the 
manly  firmness  of  his  character  had  to  contend  only  with  a 
daughter's  wishes.  He  would,  it  is  true,  occasionally  yield  for 
a  few  hours,  or  even  a  day  or  two,  to  the  urgency  of  her  en- 
treaties, and  would  promise  a  compliance  with  her  requests ; 
but  no  sooner  was  he  relieved  from  the  immediate  embarrass- 
ment of  her  presence,  and  permitted  again  to  share  the  enliv- 
ening companionship  of  Gregory  Donoe's  customers,  than  the 
native  force  of  his  character  revived,  he  threw  off  the  restraints 
which  womanish  weakness  had  imposed,  and  the  Captain  was 
himself  again. 

No  sooner,  however,  was  Salanda's  influence  at  home  re  en- 
forced by  legislation  without — no  sooner  were  the  casks  and 
attendant  fixtures  in  Gregory  Donoe's  store  removed  out  of 
sight — no  sooner  was  a  check  imposed  upon  the  festivities  of 
the  store,  and  that  establishment  itself  stigmatized  with  the 
suspicion  of  illegal  traffic  and  consequent  disgrace — than 
the  Captain  yielded  to  the  duplicated  influences  now  brought 
to  bear  upon  him,  and  surrendered  his  constitutional  liberties 
with  scarcely  a  murmur.  This  change  in  his  character  and 


CONE    CUT     CORNERS.  447 

habits  having  been  thoroughly  accomplished  about  the  time 
when  the  invasion  of  the  store  of  his  old  friend  occurred,  it  is 
perhaps  not  surprising  that  he  weakly  fell  in  .with  the  plans 
and  purposes  of  the  fanatics,  and  to  the  extent  which  has  been 
already  described,  lent  his  assistance  to  cany  them  into  effect. 

It  is  really  a  little  curious  that  although  all  the  truly  judi- 
cious and  conservative  members  of  the  community  know  that 
the  Captain  is  wronged  and  oppressed  by  this  sumptuary  leg- 
islation, the  victim  himself  has  an  impression  that  he  is  very 
happy  under  it.  -He  thinks — misguided  man  ! — that  it  has 
secured  to  him  his  true  liberty.  Such  are  the  delusions  of 
fanaticism,  that  he  really  believes  that  he  is  happier  and  more 
truly  free  now,  than  he  ever  was  before.  More  than  this,  he 
has  been  heard  to  say  that  if  the  judicious  friends  of  temper- 
ance should  succeed  in  their  efforts  to  procure  a  repeal  of  the 
law  (which  they  are  not  likely  to  do)  that  he  could  not  be 
tempted  to  remain  in  the  State ;  not  even  to  regain  his  old 
constitutional  liberties. 

Salanda  quite  agrees  with  him.  This,  however,  only  shows 
in  a  still  more  striking  light,  how  little  women  can  understand 
of  politics. 

Salanda  is  as  happy  as  a  young  lady,  who  is  not  quite  yet  a 
married  lady,  can  be.  She  is  at  home  upon  the  old  place 
now,  and  the  old  place  is  now  a  home  to  her.  She  rejoices 
in  her  noble  father  now. 

The  broad  fields  and  meadows  around  the  house,  which  Mr. 
Mayferrie  had  lately  regarded  as  composing  a  country  seat, 
have  yielded  to  the  blighting  influences  cast  upon  the  indus- 
trial interests  of  the  State,  and  have  again  relapsed  into  a 
farm.  They  began  to  resume  that  character  in  ihe  fall,  before 


448  CONE     CUT     COKITE-KS. 

they  went  to  sleep  for  the  winter,  and  now  all  the  voices  of 
spring  are  waking  up  the  farm  again. 

Calick  is  again  in  favor,  too,  and  assists  the  Captain  as  of 
old  in  indefatigable  labors.  The  Captain  himself  is  once  more, 
in  an  elderly  way,  the  gentlemanly  man,  and  his  evident  re- 
gard and  afiection  daily  apologizes  to  Calick  for  former 
troubles,  and  sufficiently  thank  him  for  those  honest  remon- 
strances and  reproofs,  so  kindly  meant,  so  harshly  repulsed, 
causing  so  long  a  separation. 

With  Calick's  assistance  the  fields  are  assuming  their  old 
industry.  The  wheat  is  just  tinging  with  green  the  brown 
earth,  in  places  where  brambles  and  weeds  once  lorded  it,  and 
delicate  grasses  and  promises  of  heavy-crowned  clover-heads 
are  beginning  to  take  up  their  abode  where  rank  flags  and 
cat-o'-nine-tails  marked  a  marsh  before. 

Captain  Mayferrie  on  a  bright  morning  bethinks  himself 
of  a  new  orchard,  and  with  much  care  and  patient  toil, 
plants  those  stems  which  he  knows  can  never  be  to  him  any 
thing  more  than  slight  shade  to  a  gray  head,  but  the  fruit  of 
which,  he  hopes  that  others  may  enjoy  in  future  years.  Now 
too,  in  little  intervals  of  more  pressing  cares,  he  plans  a  build- 
ing-spot, and  of  an  evening,  when  the  labors  of  the  day  are 
ended  he  goes  out  to  view  it,  and  his  trembling  hand  puts 
acorns  to  slumber  in  the  ground  along  the  outline  of  an  im- 
aginary avenue  to  the  site,  on  which,  if  his  cherished  fancy  shall 
be  fulfilled,  his  daughter  may  one  day  have  a  summer  home. 

And  Salanda  is  as  happy  as  a  young  lady  who  is  not  quite 
yet  a  married  lady  can  be.  She  H&t  home  upon  the  old 
place  now,  and  the  old  place  is  now  a  home  to  her.  And  she 
rejoices  in  her  cousin  Jason  now. 


CONE    CUT    CORKERS.  449 

Aunt  Provy  has  heard  one  afternoon  lately,  by  some  method 
of  electric  communication,  that  Jason  has  arrived  in  the  stage  ; 
and  she  thinks  that  May  is  rather  early  for  him  to  come,  into 
the  country,  unless  he  comes  on  business. 

But  then,  perhaps  Jason  has  come  on  business. 

Whether  he  has  or  not,  he  clambers  down  from  the  driver's 
box  when  the  stage  has  reached  the  postoffice,  and  greeting 
somewhat  quietly  the  few  inevitable  acquaintances  who  meet 
him,  as  if  he  does  not  care  to  make  his  arrival  known,  walks 
up  the  village-street,  and  draws  near  Aunty  Pease's  house.  It 
is  not  ten  minutes  since  on  the  stage-box  he  passed  the  bound- 
ary of  the  township,  and  came  within  the  legal  limits  of  Cone 
Cut  Corners ;  but  Aunt  Provy  has  already  some  mysterious 
notice  of  his  coming,  and  does  not  choose  to  let  him  pass  her 
door  without  a  greeting. 

She  calls  to  him  from  the  window  of  her  little  parlor. 

"  How  do  they  all  do,"  asks  Jason,  "  up  at ?" 

"  They  are  very  well,"  replies  Aunt  Provy ;  "  at  least  he 's 
well,  but  she  is  n't." 

"  Is  she  sick  ?  why,  what 's  the  matter  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answers  Aunt  Provy,  "  she  's  getting  old,  and  the 
rheumatism  troubles  her." 

"  Oh  !  Mrs.  Graynes  !" 

"  Yes,"  says  Aunt  Provy,  "  I  supposed  you  was  going  there." 

"  No,  I  meant  up  at  the  Captain's." 

"  Oh  !  the  Capp'n's  ?  He 's  very  well.  He 's  doing  very 
well  now." 

«  And—  ?" 

"  Calick  ?"  interposes  Aunt  Provy.  "  Yes,  he 's  well.  He 's 
up  there  now." 


450  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

w  And  Salanda  f  asks  Jason. 

"  Oh,  Salanda,"  replies  Aunt  Provy,  as  if  Salanda's  health 
was  a  matter  of  the  least  possible  importance.  "  She 's  well 
enough,  I  expect.  She  always  is." 

It  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  electric  telegraph  longer  to 
detain  Jason.  He  bids  Aunt  Provy  good  evening,  and  has- 
tens on.  From  her  window  she  watches  him  walking  briskly 
up  the  hill.  And  if  ever  upon  the  whole  surface  of  this  sub- 
lunary globe  an  electric  telegraph  has  been  seen  to  wink,  it 
is,  when  Jason  passing  the  little  white  gate  of  the  parsonage, 
with  scarce  a  glance,  pushes  on  toward  Captain  Mayferrie's. 

But  then  perhaps  Jason  has  come  on  business. 

Whether  he  has  or  not,  evening  finds  him  still  at  the 
Captain's.  Tea  being  over,  Mr.  Mayferrie  has,  upon  invitation 
of  Calick,  gone  out  to  consult  on  some  new  arrangements  de- 
vised by  his  thoughtful  friend  for  the  better  accommodation 
of  the  horse.  Aunt  Provy,  who  has  never  quite  surrendered 
her  motherly  care  for  Salanda,  has  come  up  to  insist  upon 
taking  charge  of  certain  baking  operations,  which  it  would 
seem  the  arrival  of  Jason  rendered  necessary.  Salanda  and 
Jason  are  in  the  sitting  room,  where  they  can  hear  Aunt 
Provy  bustling  about  the  kitchen,  beating  eggs,  and  opening 
and  shutting  the  little  oven  door  from  time  to  time. 

Ah !  Jason,  if  you  have  come  on  business,  now  is  your 
time. 

Why  Jason  should  leave  the  rocking-chair,  near  the  fire- 
place, and  go  away  back  to  the  window,  and  sit  down  by  Sa- 
landa in  the  window-seat,  just  where  there  is  least  room  for 
him,  we  can  not  understand  ;  but  so  he  does.  Why  that  mis- 
chievous curl  o-ill  fall  down  inviting  him  to  play  with  it,  we 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  451 

can  not  imagine.  He  accepts  the  invitation,  however,  and 
winds  it  back  and  forth  upon  his  finger. 

Ah  !  Jason,  if  you  have  come  on  business,  now  is  your  time. 

"  Salanda,"  says  he,  in  a  very  low  tone. 

He  stops  for  her  to  say  "  What  ?" 

It  is  certainly  very  unreasonable  for  him  to  expect  her  to 
make  this  oral  response,  because,  although  very  much  oc- 
cupied with  her  work,  she  is  paying  close  attention  to  what  ho 
says ;  closer  indeed  than  any  young  lady  ever  did  before.  It 
is  certainly  quite  unnecessary  for  him  to  suspend  the  conver- 
sation until  she  shall  say  "  What  ?"  but  he  persists  in  doing  so. 
After  a  little  pause,  she  says  it ;  then  he  recommences. 

"  I — I — oh — you  have  never  seen  my  sister  Frederica,  have 
you  ?" 

What  an  insignificant  question !  Of  course  she  'never  has. 
He  knows  it. 

But  it  is  of  little  use  for  us  who  are  strangers,  tt>  linger 
around  Captain  Mayferrie's.  Nobody  will  receive  much 
attention  here,  apparently,  unless  he  has  come  on  business. 
We  have  not,  and  we  should  be  quite  neglected. 

If  Jason  came  on  business,  it  seems  probable  that  he  suc- 
ceeds in  it,  whatever  it  is ;  for  in  a  day  or  two  he  takes  his 
departure,  wearing  every  appearance  of  a  young  man  engaged 
in  a  very  extensive  and  prosperous  business  indeed. 

And  now  it  appears  that  there  is  an  endless  amount 
of  sewing  to  be  done.  Whether  it  is  getting  ready  for  sum- 
mer that  occupies  Salanda  all  the  spring — for  it  takes  some 
young  ladies  the  whole  of  one  season  to  prepare  for  the  next, 
— or  whether  raiment  is  being  manufactured  for  some  charit- 
able mission,  or  whether  Salanda  herself  has  decided  to  go  into 


452  CONE     CUT    CORKERS. 

business — certain  it  is,  that  an  immense  deal  of  sewing 
is  going  on  in  the  house.  And  in  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  it 
all,  back  comes  Jason  again  bringing  a  young  lady  whom 
Salanda  has  never  seen  before — a  young  lady  rather  pale  and 
thin  she  is,  but  her  smile  is  more  than  bright  enough  to  make 
up  for  that,  and  Salanda  runs  to  the  garden-gate  when  she 
sees  them  coming,  and  cries  out  delighted — 

"Ah!  Freddie." 

And  Freddie,  if  Freddie  it  is,  smiles  her  bright  smile,  and 
embraces  Salanda,  and  says,  "  Welcome  sister,"  and  then  looks 
from  Salanda  to  Jason,  and  smiles  again  with  that  same  bright 
sisterly  smile,  and  the  dimples  of  affection  break  out  as  be- 
fore, except  that  they  shine  now  on  Salanda  and  Jason  both. 
And  the  two  girls  walk  up  the  path,  dividing  Jason  between 
them,  and  leaning  upon  his  arms,  and  bending  forward  to 
talk  to  each  other,  and  looking  up  to  hear  him  speak ;  and 
Jason  looks  into  their  faces  as  they  look  up  to  his,  and  he 
wishes  the  path  was  a  full  mile  long;  and  Salanda  has 
no  bonnet  on,  and  without  the  least  hesitation  or  sense  of 
propriety,  and  no  signal  of  warning  to  her,  Jason  bows  his 
head,  and — well,  really — and  with  Aunt  Provy  there  at  the 
window,  right  before  him  too — and  without  the  slightest  prov- 
ocation— how  can  he  ? 

And  Salanda  is  as  happy  as  a  young  lady  who  is  not  quite 
yet  a  married  lady,  can  be.  She  is  at  home  upon  the  old 
place  now,  and  the  old  place  is  now  a  home  to  her  and  all 
she  loves.  She  rejoices  in  a  sister  Freddie  now. 

Freddie  is  come  to  stay  two  days,  but,  by  the  time  she 
leaves,  it  appears  that  the  tables  in  the  arithmetics  are  wrong, 
and  that  two  days  make  a  week. 


CONE     CUT     CORNERS.  453 

During  this  week,  the  young  ladies  take  each  other  into 
many  mutual  confidences.  It  is  well,  perhaps,  at  least  for 
Freddie,  that  they  do  so ;  otherwise  she  might  have  been 
covered  with  confusion  instead  of  delight,  when  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  sixth  day,  the  morrow  having  been  definitely  and 
finally  appointed  for  her  departure,  Mr.  Paul  Bundle,  M.D.,  is 
perceived  looking  inquiringly  up  at  the  house  from  the  road, 
as  if  endeavoring  to  identify  it.  Mr.  Bundle,  of  course,  is  not 
allowed  to  remain  in  uncertainty  long,  and  when  he  comes  in 
with  his  guide  Freddie,  he  congratulates  Jason,  he  does  not 
say  upon  what — upon  his  success  in  business,  we  suppose — in 
a  way  that  shows  he  judges  other  people  by  himself. 

Then  it  is  explained,  also,  that  Mr.  Paul  Bundle,  M.D.,  is 
present  by  invitation  of  Jason,  authorized  by  Salanda,  but 
concealed  from  Freddie.  And  Jason  is  called  to  account  by 
his  sister  for  the  artifice,  and  although  he  receives  a  little  re- 
buke for — well,  Miss  Freddie  does  not  seem  to  know  for  what 
exactly — he  feels,  doubtless,  amply  repaid  in  the  relief  he  ex- 
periences from  the  duty  of  entertaining  two  ladies  at  once. 

Then,  too,  come  full  accounts  from  Paul  of  the  welfare  of 
all  at  home — of  father's  continued  prosperity  and  good  habits, 
of  mother's  restored  health  and  happiness,  and  Susie's  good 
looks  improved  by  country  life  and  freedom  from  toil  and 
care.  And  it  appears,  too,  that  Mr.  Edgecutt  has  been  to 
Maine  on  business — to  settle  up  accounts  with  Mrs.  Bundle, 
probably,  though  Paul  is  not  very  explicit  on  this  point — and 
whether  the  lawyer  at  the  same  time  opened  a  new  account 
with  the  young  lady,  must  remain  a  matter  of  conjecture. 

Now  is  projected  also,  a  joint  excursion  by  Jason  and  Sa- 
lauda,  accompanied  by  Paul  and  Freddie,  to  Niagara  and  the 


454  CONE     CUT     CORNERS. 

Lakes,  and  a  day  in  the  latter  part  of  May  is  named  for  its 
commencement. 

Time  flies  fast  in  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  the  continued  sew- 
ing, the  appointed  day  rapidly  approaches,  and  at  length  ar- 
rives. But  before  Salanda  leaves  town,  in  fact  on  the  very 
morning  of  her  departure,  at  a  most  inconvenient  hour,  imme- 
diately after  breakfast,  there  is  a  little  party  at  the  Captain's, 
consisting  of  a  dozen  or  so  of  Salanda's  particular  friends,  in- 
cluding' Elder  Graynes ;  and  every  body  stands  up,  although 
there  are  a  plenty  of  chairs,  and  Elder  Graynes  makes  himself 
more  prominent  than  clergymen  are  usually  expected  to  do 
at  a  party,  and  indeed  quite  takes  the  lead  in  the  conversa- 
tion, and  Mr.  Paul  Bundle,  M.D.,  who  happens  to  be  stand- 
ing near  Jason,  becomes  confused  in  his  mind,  mistaking  the 
occasion  for  a  donation  party,  and  makes  the  Elder  a  little 
donation ;  and  there  is  a  little  cake  passed  around,  if  it  is  directly 
after  breakfast,  and  there  is  a  good  deal  of  shaking  of  hands, 
and  so  forth ;  but  if  any  body  cries — for  people  do  sometimes 
cry  at  parties  given  so  early  in  the  morning — it  is  not  Jason. 

The  month  of  May  leaving  this  world  for  whatever  journey 
lies  before  departing  months,  smiles  upon  the  old  place  with 
her  last  glance,  and  upon  Mr.  Mayferrie  at  home  alone. 

He  lives  alone  on  the  old  place  now,  but  he  is  happy  in 
his  daughter's  happiness,  in  the  expectation  of  her  frequent 
visits,  in  the  confidence  in  her  undiminished  affection  and  con- 
tinued filial  care  and  kindness,  and  in  the  knowledge  that  his 
family  includes  no  longer  a  daughter  only,  but  a  beloved  son. 

He  lives  alone  on  the  old  place  now,  but  ho  is  happy  in  the 
society  of  old  friends,  for  Calick  is  still  his  daily  assistant  upon 


COXE     CUT    CORNERS.  455 

the  fenn ;  and  Aunt  Provy,  too,  does  not  hesitate  to  return 
sometimes  in  person  the  calls  which  the  Captain  often  makes 
upon  her.  And  they  do  say — but  no,  we  will  not  elevate 
the  gossip  of  Cone  Cut  Corners  to  the  dignity  of  a  page  in 
history. 

He  lives  alone  upon  the  old  place  now,  but  he  is  happy  in 
himself.  lie  is  upon  the  bright  side  of  fifty,  that  is,  the  elder 
side.  He  came  over  the  brow  of  life  last  fall ;  and  it  is  this 
side  which  is  the  bright  side  to  him.  His  hair  is  gray,  his 
form  perhaps  a  little  bent,  his  step  not  quite  strong,  his  hand 
sometimes  trembles.  But  in  renewed  strength  of  mind  and 
moral  purpose,  he  feels  a  flush  and  glow  almost  like  that  of 
youth.  The  freedom  in  which  he  rejoices  now,  is  the  freedom 
from  temptation,  from  sin,  from  shame,  and  from  remorse. 

He  lives  alone  upon  the  old  place  now,  as  some  would  esti- 
mate loneliness,  but  there  is  a  Presence  in  his  home  which 
brings  more  happiness  to  his  heart,  and  more  society  to  his 
fireside,  than  all  the  companionships  of  his  days  of  mistaken 
liberty.*  When,  or  how  this  Presence  came,  he  scarcely 
knows,  whether  in  answer  to  Salanda's  prayers,  or  whether  it 
would  have  been  his,  even  unasked,  flowing  from  the  abundant 
mercy  of  God,  he  scarcely  knows,  but  it  is  in  his  heart,  he 
knows,  and  it  is  there  forever.  And  Salanda  knows  it  too, 
and  rejoices  in  it,  and  trusts  in  it  for  her  father's  safety,  more 
than  in  all  else,  for  she  knows  that  while  that  Presence  reigns 
in  his  heart,  neither  laws,  nor  repeal  of  laws,  nor  suasions,  nor 
persuasions,  nor  temptations,  nor  overthrow  of  temptations, 
nor  loneliness,  nor  companionship,  nor  life,  nor  death,  shall 
be  able  to  shake  his  firm  purpose,  or  separate  him  from  the 
safety  of  God's  people. 


456  CONE     CUT     CORKERS. 

One  shade  only  rests  upon  his  happiness.  It  is  the  shade 
that  rests  upon  his  name.  For  his  story  is  well  known  now, 
and  there  are  not  wanting  efforts  to  restore  to  him  the  name 
of  his  youth,  nor  does  he  fail  to  hear  himself  accosted  with 

hesitation  and  stammering  as  Mr.  May Chesslebury.  Ho 

has  no  wish  however,  to  regain  the  surname  now  so  long  dis- 
used, but  he  leaves  friends  at  Cone  Cut  to  choose  for  them- 
selves between  the  two.  With  most  of  them  as  with  us,  he 
retains  his  long  familiar  name.  It  was  his  mother's  name,  it 
is  his  middle  name,  and  he  is  not  displeased  to  hear  it  still. 

But  as  at  evening  he  leans  against  the  churchyard-gate,  and 
sees  the  white  gravestone  with  the  simple  inscription, 
"Mother,"  glistening  through  the  foliage  in  the  light  of  the 
setting  sun,  amid  a  hundred  comrades,  bearing  each  the 
name  of  some  departed  one,  and  as  he  feels  afresh  that  the 
time  must  soon  come  when  a  place  will  be  there  made  for  him 
also,  the  sharp  thought  pricks  him  that  he  leaves  no  certain 
name  to  be  engraved  above  his  head.  And  he  wonders  what 
they  would  do  about  it,  and  whether  they  would  cut  upon  his 
tombstone,  "  Mayferrie,"  or  "  Chesslebury,"  or  whether  they 
would  leave  it  blank  in  their  uncertainty. 

And  the  yellow  sunlight  gushes  out  upon  the  white  grave- 
stone with  the  simple  inscription,  and  shows  him  a  new  light 
and  a  sudden  answer  there.  And  he  turns  away,  and  says : — 

"  I  can  trust  that  to  Salanda.     She  will  tell  them  what  to 


"FATHER." 


